


like glitter and gold

by stirtheblood



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Altair is an idiot, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Angst, F/M, Kadar Lives, Kissing, M/M, Malik is so done, Pieces of Eden, Romance, Slow Burn, really this is just a self-indulgent fix it fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-09-06
Packaged: 2020-01-07 01:22:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 57,929
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18400256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stirtheblood/pseuds/stirtheblood
Summary: A fix it fic where the trio time travels and Kadar doesn't die in Solomon's Temple. They somehow end up in the Renaissance Florence, but their disappearance doesn't go unnoticed.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> English isn't my first language, so sorry if this is really bad.

 

There was light. Bright, white, blinding light. Malik closed his eyes, even put his hand before his head, to try and see, but to no avail. He heard his brother’s steps, maybe to try and find him, and he heard Altaïr grunt, and a sword dropped to the ground. Solomon’s Temple disappeared, Jerusalem disappeared, but the light stayed, until that disappeared too.

His head hurt, he tasted iron in his mouth. What was happening to them? He found a hand, or a hand found him, he didn’t know for sure. But he held onto it. He realized that he was on his back, laying down. Somewhere solid. The hand was gone, and he could finally open his eyes.

They were somewhere in the city. But this wasn’t Jerusalem, Malik realized. No, the street was wide and clean, and empty. Around them, the buildings were decorated in a way Malik never seen before, they weren’t anything like the ones in Jerusalem. Or any other building he saw. If anything, they looked more like the ones in Acre, but they weren’t as crude.

A minute ago, they were in the ruins of Solomon’s Temple. They approached Robert de Sablé and his templars, Altaïr being reckless as always. Malik followed him, he had to. They were partners on this mission. And Kadar…

He quickly got up and turned around, finding his little brother still cradling his head, sitting on the floor. His right hand was in his lap, his palm looked burned, with blisters. Malik was beside his brother in the next second.

 “Malik…” His little brother gasped, voice full of pain. He touched his injured hand gently, trying not to care for his brother’s whimper. It didn’t look bad, but Kadar was clearly in a lot of pain. What happened to him? Why was he the only one hurt?

And then he remembered Altaïr, but the man was already up on his feet, and judging by a shocked gasp, he was already attacking someone. Malik got to his side just in time to pull back his hand before he slashed the throat of a stranger, who was just wandering the streets.

“Who are you?” the Master Assassin growled, but his victim remained silent, lips trembling. He was afraid, that much was clear. Malik didn’t think for a second that this stranger was responsible for what was happening to them, but Altaïr wanted answers.

“My… my name is Luca… please.” The man started crying, and Malik decided that it was enough. He tried to pull his partner back, but Altaïr, of course, didn’t want to obey. “I am just a merchant! Please, let me go!”

“What is this place?” Altaïr continued to interrogate the poor man, whose eyes grew even wider.

“It’s… Florence, of course.”

Florence? But that was… Not in Syria at all. Malik tried to think back on his cartography lessons, the maps they confiscated on their missions. But how could they have travelled this far in an instant? How is this possible? He was clearly dreaming. That was the only explanation. Altaïr looked confused and angry, he didn’t understand either.

“Let him go, Brother.”

The man finally looked at him for the first time, thanking him and still pleading. Malik walked back to his little brother, tearing the fabric of his own robes to have something to bandage Kadar’s hand with. He poured a bit of water from his flask on the cloth to clean his palm, and then wrapped the fabric around the injured hand. Kadar was looking up at the sky, his eyes were red from crying, body trembling. Malik quickly scanned his brother for other injuries, but he wasn’t bleeding, thankfully.

Altaïr wasn’t about to just let the man walk free, of course. Malik heard a bubbling sound, then the thud of a body hitting the ground. Anger flared inside him. Before he looked back to his partner, he made sure Kadar was still conscious and aware. The Master Assassin cleaned his blade on his victim’s clothes and then scanned the area for a hiding place. A minute later the merchant’s body was in a haystack, and Altaïr was climbing one of the taller buildings around them. Malik stayed beside Kadar, but his eyes were following the other assassin. He was surprised that the street was empty, apart from the late merchant. It must be late into the night, although when they entered Solomon’s Temple, it was just after dawn.

The man said Florence. _Of course_. Malik couldn’t conjure up much knowledge about this place, but he was fairly certain that they were on Christian land. That wasn’t promising. They had to get off the street, before anyone could see them. Can people here recognize their robes? The Crusaders knew about the Brotherhood, they knew their uniform. They had a reputation, but did it reach this place? In any case, they can’t risk it.

Altaïr was back, he didn’t spare a glance at Kadar.

“This city is strange. But I could see a big building that way,” he pointed to Malik’s right, above his head “and possibly a river beyond it.”

“Possibly? I know you are afraid of water, but I can’t imagine one could forget how it looks like.”

The Master Assassin looked at him, frowning. Malik was not in a good mood, at all. It started when they had to go on a mission together, and when Altaïr disregarded everything he said to him, well, that didn’t help either. He was fed up with the man way before they found themselves in this situation.

“I am not afraid of water.”

“Whatever you say, Brother.”

Kadar was suddenly chuckling at their bickering, and Malik immediately turned to him, relieved. His little brother looked in the direction where Altaïr was pointing, but the streets were just as empty. Malik found that odd. Maybe they were in a less populated area? Or maybe it was dangerous outside at this hour, and the citizens knew better? But what was that merchant doing out here then?

“We should find shelter, to look at Kadar’s hand.” Malik directed it at Altaïr, who was already gone. He grimaced, and helped his brother stand up. He spotted Altaïr not far away, looking into alleyways and glancing through windows.

It took them several minutes to get out of the wide street and into a dark and narrow alley. Several houses had smaller gardens, which were accessible from the street, but it would be risky to stay there, no matter how nice they were. Malik spotted rooftop gardens, very similar to what they set up in several cities where the Brotherhood was present. He wondered if there were assassins here. It was a long way from home, and they are probably not an official branch, but he knew that the history of their order started long before Masyaf. Or maybe it was just all a coincidence. In any case, they were a good hiding place.

The only problem was that he wasn’t sure Kadar could climb up to one. Maybe if they find a ladder? Altaïr was apparently thinking the same, he told them to wait and then climbed up again on the almost smooth wall of a house. His fingers found the protruding parts, and when he got higher, the decoration made it much easier. Then, he disappeared from their sight.

“Where are we, Malik?” his brother asked, but Malik didn’t have a good answer.

“I’m still trying to figure it out.”

Kadar avoided his eyes. He looked up to where Altaïr was a second ago, refusing to glance at Malik. Something was off about him, but the older brother knew better than to try and force it.

“How’s your hand?”

It was weird. How his palm was the only injury they collectively had. He certainly wasn’t hurt before they approached the templars. Malik himself was fine, and aside from his pride, probably, Altaïr wasn’t hurt either. Curious, but they need more information before they start guessing.

“It’s fine.” It wasn’t fine, judging by his brother’s tone. Kadar must’ve known Malik could see right through him, and he quickly added “Bearable. Nothing to worry about.”

As if he could ever stop worrying. The fact that Kadar was able to lie about it, told Malik that he will be able to endure it as well.

“There’s a ladder not far from here.” Altaïr was looking down at them from the top of the building, and led them deeper to the alleyway, where they found a way up to the roof. After they joined the Master Assassin, all three of them went to the nearest roof garden.

Once they were hidden, they had some time to think on what happened. Kadar was fast asleep, his injury clearly drained him. The older Al-Sayf brother couldn’t help but try to piece together how they got here. Al Mualim sent them to Jerusalem, to find something important. He called it the Ark. Altaïr thought it was just a stupid story, he told as much when Kadar asked. They saw it, above an archway. Malik doubted that it was the Ark of the Covenant, but it was _something_.

Solomon’s Temple was already a ruin, who knows what was hidden in it. Most of Jerusalem didn’t even know it was there, or that it was partly excavated. But it must’ve been ancient, whatever the artifact was.

Such things shouldn’t concern Malik, but he was concerned. Not only because they had a mission which they clearly and spectacularly failed, but also because they were in an entirely different city, who knows where. Kadar was injured, he needed a healer. Maybe they should’ve went for the river, they need to cool his hand. But then how clear is the water? They can’t risk infection either.

“What.”

He felt Altaïr's gaze on him. The assassin immediately looked away, and Malik scoffed. He won’t talk about _that_ now. They needed to figure out what to do. And if that wasn’t enough, his own brother is sleeping next to them.

“There must be a _Rafiq_ and a bureau somewhere here.” Malik stated, not really wanting an answer. “We should ask for directions. If there’s no assassin presence here, we have to get back to Masyaf.”

“That much is clear.” the other assassin answered, like it was obvious. And it was, but it was easier to talk about it than do it. If they’re on Christian land, people can at least point them to Jerusalem, or maybe even Acre, and from then, they can go back to Masyaf, with the news of their failed mission. _How_ they really got here though – that was an entirely different matter. Malik didn’t want to dwell on it, it was clearly beyond their comprehension.

Might as well try and sleep a few hours, Malik thought. They were up early before they left the Jerusalem bureau to go to Solomon’s Temple, and he knew full well Altaïr didn’t even sleep on that night, and nor did he.

*

A young assassin strolled the streets of Florence early in the morning. He was wearing his father’s robes, which concealed his true identity. His family was still notorious, he still had to be careful. But he was excited because of a certain codex page in his inner pocket. It was good to be home, to visit his good friend Leonardo again.

The Maestro didn’t change much since their last meeting, when he repaired his father’s hidden blade. But Ezio changed much. When they parted, he was convinced he would go to Spain with his family and start anew. Not only that it didn’t happen, but he also learned about his heritage as an assassin. He learned to embrace it, and now he was back in his home town, trying to uncover an attack on the Medici.

He passed his old home, the Auditore villa, but didn’t even look in its direction. Leonardo’s workshop was not far. He was thrilled to see him again, apart from family, he was the only one from his old life who was still loyal to Ezio. Perhaps his only friend. The small plaza in front of the building was busy with merchants, but he passed them like a ghost.

Stepping in front of the door, he knocked. There was some rustling on the other side, but then the door was opened, and the artist welcomed him with a warm smile. Ezio leaned in to hug the man, as they used to.

“Oh, Ezio, right? What a surprise, I haven’t seen you in… years, probably!”

The artist dodged his attempt, but invited him in. Ezio was dumbfounded for a second but then stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

“Leonardo?” he asked warily, as if something was wrong. It felt like something was wrong. They didn’t know the other for long before his family’s execution, but they spent a lot of time with each other after, yes? He clearly remembered him, but the artist seemed a bit uncertain.

“Yes, sit, please! Would you like anything?” Leonardo was kind and generous as always. Ezio didn’t sit though, just stood next to him, enjoying the other’s good mood.

“No, thank you. I came because I found another page of Altaïr's codex.”

“Oh, another? I can’t seem to remember the first one, my friend, but please remind me.”

That was odd. He knew how excited the artist was at the prospect of more pages. He didn’t forget the hidden blade, surely! He started to recover the page from his pocket, only there wasn’t anything in it. Ezio panicked, looked around.

“Is something the matter?”

Something was very, very wrong.

“Leonardo, you do remember me, right? You know of the assassins.”

“Of course, Ezio. How is Madonna Maria? She was always kind to me…” The artist started to trail off, shocked. “She is alright, yes?”

“Something is wrong. Are you being threatened?” That was the only thing he could think of. Why else would Leonardo want to change the subject so quickly from the assassins? The artist gave him a weak smile while shaking his head.

“No, not at all. I’m just confused, to be perfectly honest.” Leonardo suspiciously eyed him, his jovial mood disappeared.

“You fixed my father’s blade for me, based on…”

He raised his hand to show him the hidden blade, but it didn’t come out of its sheath. In fact, it was broken, just like he found it in his father’s chest. But that meant… What did it mean? He did end up sitting in Leonardo’s workshop, with the man apologizing to him for forgetting something like this. Something happened, and Ezio was beyond confused.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2 in which our heroes are more confused than ever. Meetings happen.

 “So, you’re saying that I deciphered this Altaïr’s codex and repaired a blade that could be extended and retracted?”

That is exactly what Ezio was saying. The two friends – were they friends anymore? – sat next to each other at Leonardo’s workshop, with Ezio’s blade on the table in front of them. The artist already examined it and said that he could probably figure it out, but he certainly didn’t remember the first time he fixed it. Did it even happen? Ezio told him everything from the past two years, every interaction they had, but the artist didn’t seem to remember much of it. Luckily, Leonardo didn’t tell him to go away, if anything he was curious.

How did the codex page disappear from his pocket? Did it even exist? But Ezio remembered. He remembered everything, but it was as if the codex never existed, and so his hidden blade was never repaired, and they never became friends. Maybe this is what _nothing is true_ really means. His head hurt.

Clearly, the assassins still existed. He existed. His father’s robe was on him, and oh it would be very inconvenient if that disappeared too while he was out and about. Leonardo knew of them. So, it had something to do with the codex, with Altaïr then? Maybe he should visit Paola. Or go back to Monteriggioni and ask Mario. Was the Sanctuary still there? It had to be.

“What is your knowledge of the assassins exactly?” he asked eventually, wondering. They were friends with Paola, he must know something, right?

“Well, I know it’s an order your father was in. Ezio, are you alright?”

He was alright. Maybe it was something he misunderstood? The Maestro was looking at him, concerned. His blonde hair was in a bun, but several locks of hair kept falling out. He was working on something when he interrupted, a smudge of charcoal was still on his bearded chin. He didn’t wear his red attire Ezio last saw him in, only a simple shirt that was once white and some thin trousers.

“I’m sorry for interrupting your work. I just…” he sighed. “I am confused. I seem to remember something you don’t, and I know you should.”

Leonardo must’ve felt his desperation, because he offered a friendly smile.

“You should speak with Paola, I’m sure she can provide answers I cannot.” She was also an assassin, yes. She should know about the codex and his hidden blade. Ezio nodded, lost in his thoughts, and went for the door of the workshop after grabbing his blade from the table. Leonardo followed him out, but lightly touched his shoulder before he could wander off. “You can come here if you need to lay low for a while.”

Ezio turned his head to look the man in the eyes, who was still smiling, but his smile was a sad one.

“Thank you, Maestro.”

“Out of respect for your family. Your mother, she… helped me when I needed it.”

The assassin was not familiar with that story, but it was not the time to uncover it. He thanked Leonardo and headed to La Rosa Colta.

He was deep in thoughts while wandering the streets once again, passed the plaza in front of the dome, carefully avoiding thinking about the part of his life before the executions. His mother and sister were safe, that was all that mattered. He knew Claudia didn’t like it in Monteriggioni, that they should head for Rome at least, if not going to Spain. She wanted to marry someone and live in a big city. On the other hand, their mother was still not speaking. Maria Auditore was but a shell to her former self, and Ezio could only make her smile with the paintings he purchased for the gallery in the villa. She was still enjoying art, but her sadness couldn’t fade for long.

Maybe he could convince Leonardo to visit her after he was done in Florence. Ezio wanted a portrait of his mother anyway. He now had the funds to commission the Maestro, and he suspected that the man would be interested in seeing Monteriggioni and the artworks Ezio collected. He purchased a painting depicting the Annunciation not long ago, which was painted by Andrea del Verrocchio and Leonardo, who was his former pupil.  His mother spent hours in front of that painting, examining the angel Leonardo painted. Ezio thought the wings were unconventional, but he was no expert.

He passed the dome and turned to enter a smaller street, but something stopped him. He saw a flash of white, not far from where he stood. It shouldn’t concern him, but it made him a bit curious. Instead of going to where he originally wanted, he went after whatever it was he saw. Way before he arrived there, he heard shouting from some merchants, but it wasn’t the usual.

“Go after him!” One of the yelled, pointing to somewhere almost _up_. Ezio followed his gaze and couldn’t believe his eyes. Someone in white was climbing up on a building, red sash around his waist, sword dangling from his side. He ran after the figure without a second thought.

*

Altaïr was happy to leave Malik in the roof garden, he had enough of his sulking. It was still early in the morning, and they were getting hungry, their water was also gone. Since Malik wouldn’t leave his brother alone, Altaïr decided to go out and find something to eat, and to get fresh bandages for Kadar. They were safe in there for now, although there wasn’t much space for the three of them. Altaïr hoped he could find the bureau Malik mentioned, but he wasn’t even sure it resembled the ones they had in Syria. Everything was so different here. He should look for the assassin symbol nonetheless.

He pulled his hood in his face when he reached a wide street. The city started to wake up now, more people were wandering the streets, the merchants set up their stalls. Altaïr could also spot a few guards, but they weren’t really looking in his direction. The guards he usually encountered in his missions were always aware of him but left him alone as long as he didn’t do anything. These didn’t seem to notice him. All the better.

The air was filled with the smell of food. He examined the stalls, and there were a lot of strange, bread-like things put out. Instead getting something unknown, he went to find some fruit. At least that can’t be bad, right? The very last thing they need now is to get sick from foreign food. He managed to pocket three apples without anyone noticing. He was still an assassin after all.

It took him a while to find a healer. They wore strange masks for some reason and had smaller stalls with medicine bottles and boxes on top of each other. It all looked very unstable. Altaïr noticed the bandages under the table. Easy.

Several minutes later his pockets and bags were full of everything they needed. Just when he was about to go back they way he came, he noticed a stall packed full of books. He knew Malik liked them, and maybe he could find something that tells them more about where they were. A map, if he could find one, would be great. Malik also liked maps.

As he searched the stall, ignoring the merchant’s questions about what he wanted to find, he couldn’t help but think of his partner. He was still confused about what transpired between them before they went to Solomon’s Temple. Kadar was already asleep in one of the bureau’s rooms, but Malik was on the roof when Altaïr found him. Neither of them could sleep.

These books were entirely different from what they had in Masyaf. Most of those were scrolls, and a few of them were in a book form, but the scholars there copied them to store in Al Mualim’s study. They all were handwritten. These, however, looked too perfect. Malik would certainly like to see them, but Altaïr wasn’t about to just carry a book they don’t need, just to show it to him. But he did find a big map, which he unfolded on top of the several towers of books. It didn’t look anything familiar to him, but he wasn’t a cartographer either. He did spot a crude drawing that resembled the _Qubbat al-Sakhrah_ , so Jerusalem must be on it.

The merchant was eyeing him suspiciously, he clearly was doubtful Altaïr had enough money to buy anything from his stall. He had to make a run for it then. It wouldn’t be hard, those guards weren’t even looking, although there will be a commotion. Still, enough time for him to slip away and climb up on a building, and before they could go after him, he would be long gone.

He looked at the merchant, smirked, and grabbed the map.

While he was running to a white building that could conceal him for a few seconds climbing up, he rolled up the paper to form a tube and pushed it through his belt, which was as secure as it would get. He heard shouting behind him, and someone tried to throw a rock at him a second later, missing spectacularly. But he was already halfway up to the roof. He started running on the tiles, knowing well that if they follow him up here, he had to disappear in a few minutes. He started scanning the nearby buildings, looking for a hiding place where he could wait until his pursuers give up.

There were steps behind him, as soon as he bolted to the general direction where Malik and Kadar were waiting for him. The guards weren’t supposed to be up here this quickly. He ran as fast as he could, feet not slipping once, a throwing knife in hand. He tried to glance behind him, but almost missed a jump.

His pursuer was good. That much was clear. He was no guard either.

The roof garden was close. Malik will want to kill him for endangering his brother like this, but he didn’t have a choice. He could not loose the other in a city he didn’t even know.

“Wait!”

He didn’t wait. Why would he? So that the man – it was a man, judging by his voice – could kill him while he hesitates? He jumped across to the building where the roof garden was, his partner would’ve heard him by now.

In that exact moment, his pursuer was suddenly on him, and they both collapsed on the slippery tiles, but the angle wasn’t so steep that they would fall. Air was knocked out of his lungs as his upper body crashed to the roof, and his legs burned. The other was above him, but Altaïr could turn around quickly, using the momentum to try and flip them around. It was a disaster. His wrist was grabbed before he could plunge the throwing knife into the man, and his other arm was suddenly twisted. He wanted to cry out but managed to supress it.

“Stop moving!” the stranger growled, clearly annoyed with his protest. Where was Malik? Did he come to the wrong roof garden? No, he didn’t make a mistake. This was where he came from an hour ago.

His attacker was bigger than him, more muscular. He was pressed into the roof but didn’t stop moving. Tightening his grip on his blade, he managed to free his hand, and was about to stab the stranger when he was suddenly struck right on his face, and he heard a crunching sound.

Now he cried out, voice full of pain, and he even let go of his knife. The stranger’s hand was back on his wrist, but Altaïr didn’t have the strength to fight back anymore. His whole face was aching, and his hands started to feel numb. He felt his eyes watering.

And then it was all over.

The man became very still atop of him, he even let go of his hands. Altaïr quickly tried to get his throwing knife back, but he only felt tiles under his fingers. Finally, he looked up and saw his pursuer, head angled upwards and a blade was pressed to his throat.

*

His head felt slow. He could barely keep his eyes open, his limbs felt like logs of wood. The environment was nothing he ever saw before – except it was familiar. But it was twisted, walls missing and breaking, the decorative patterns of his pillows continued in the air. The air – it smelled like oranges, and a strange mist was coming from the windows.

Kadar was laying on a rug, but the floor wasn’t hard as it should be. He sat up, slowly, he felt very sleepy. The smell of oranges filled his lungs, and as he exhaled, it was like letting life itself go. But he wasn’t dead, no. He could still see, he was in a room – familiar, yet warped. He was dreaming, then. Suddenly, his environment stilled, as if to react to his thought just now. Every small particle in the air stopped, and Kadar felt eyes on him. But there wasn’t anyone in the room.

He stood up, wearing the robes of a novice assassin. It was the Jerusalem bureau, he realized. He got one of the small rooms, Malik said he should sleep before they go out. His brother was nowhere to be found though.

Before he could take a step, he was already outside. Jerusalem was just as twisted as the room he was in a second ago. The Dome of the Rock floated, its golden cupola mirrored the light of the moon on the sky. Some of the houses were afloat, some were missing windows and door, or they were at the entirely wrong place. The assassin bureau’s roof was the only solid thing he saw in his close vicinity. He was standing right where the symbol was painted on the stone.

Not far from him, Malik was sitting next to the shiny dome of the building, his back against the wall, pipe in his hand. Another figure loomed over him, and he looked up irritated. As usual, and Kadar smiled. His brother was always annoyed when Altaïr was near.

The Master Assassin sat down next to him and took the pipe from his hand. He said something, but Kadar couldn’t hear it. He couldn’t hear what Malik answered, but he knew his exasperated tone. And then, his brother faintly smiled. Just for a moment, it was gone before he could really process it.

And then all of it was gone. It was dark, but before he could really start to panic, he realized where he was. They were in a cave, Malik beside him, and Altaïr just killed that man before them. He slowly, more slowly than it really happened in real life, cleaned his blade, while Malik was talking to him silently, but Kadar could feel his anger.

He was floating between stone walls, and suddenly, there was an opening, and Altaïr was talking to him. He knew he asked if the artefact was the Ark of the Covenant, and Altaïr said it was just a story. There was no sound now, and Altaïr was on a ladder in an instant. Malik glanced at Kadar, and really, he told him to stay put, no sound now, and went to follow Altaïr. Kadar didn’t stay put though, did he? No. He…

…woke up with a gasp. His limbs were stiff from the uncomfortable position he was sleeping in, his head on someone’s shoulder, legs tucked under him, his injured hand with his palm up, carefully placed on his knee. The body next to him moved.

“Good morning, little brother.”

Malik was looking at him with warm, dark eyes, a faint smile on his lips. His short hair was a bit tousled, his hood was pulled down. Kadar was confused for a long second as to where he was, but then the events of the previous day flooded his mind. He looked down at his hand. It was numb, but he could feel the pain still. Someone took off his bandages – they were pieces of Malik’s robe, really. His burned palm looked bad.

It dawned on him why he was injured.

Oh, Malik is going to be _pissed_.

“There’s something I need to…” Kadar looked up, surprised, because Malik started to say the same exact thing to him. “…tell you.”

The older Al-Sayf gave him a puzzled look.

“I… It may or may not be my fault that we’re here.”

And then, just as he said those words, they heard someone yell in pain.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our heroes continue to be idiots.

The man didn’t move at all. He raised his head at the touch of Malik’s blade, and let go of Altaïr. His partner had a broken nose, no doubt the doing of this stranger. Who had an assassin’s clothes? His attire was a bit different than theirs, but it was recognizable enough. His hood covered his face from Malik’s view, but that can be changed.

He motioned the unknown assassin to stand up, letting Altaïr go. The Master Assassin stood up, touching his broken nose with a hiss, and then grabbing his throwing knife from the roof.

“Easy, friend.”

Malik scoffed at the man, and forced him to look at him, pulling his hood back with the tip of his sword. It revealed a young, handsome face, warm brown complexion, and dark hair which was tied back. But what really captivated Malik was his lip scar. Almost identical to Altaïr’s.

“You are an assassin.” Malik stated, and the man nodded. He triggered his hidden blade, but it appeared to be broken. Their symbol was also on his belt. Altaïr glanced at Malik, apparently still angry that this stranger could catch up with him. Or maybe he was angry because of his nose. Who knew when it came to this man, really.

“Ezio Auditore. Pleased to meet you.”

Malik was taken aback for a moment. As if he didn’t hold a sword to his throat. He didn’t put the sword down though, just waited until Altaïr stalked next to him.

“Are you with the order? I’ve never met any assassins outside of Florence.” The young man seemed excited indeed, despite punching Altaïr in the face. And hunting him down.

“We are lost, actually.” Kadar said, climbing out of the roof garden. Malik saw Altaïr turn around to his brother, but Malik was still looking at the stranger. He was quick, from what Malik has seen of him, before he threatened him. Which didn’t seem to bother this Ezio Auditore much. He smiled at them, like he would at old friends. Who was this man? And why was his hidden blade broken? He still had his ring finger. Maybe he wasn’t even a real assassin, just stole it from someone? That was more likely, considering. It didn’t explain his obvious skill, but they can’t be too careful.

“Lost? I can show you around the city. I was heading to a friend of mine myself, another assassin. Her name is Paola, I’m sure she would love to meet you.”

A female assassin? He never heard such a thing. His sword pressed to the man’s throat a bit more strongly, which made him flinch. Altaïr just growled dismissively next to him, while fumbling with something in his belt.

“Just kill him and be done with it. I found a map.” Altaïr clearly wasn’t as curious about this man as Malik. But they needed help. Even if the map turns out to be useful to him – and considering how Altaïr knew nothing about maps, that wasn’t likely – they still didn’t know anyone here, Kadar’s hand needed to be examined, and generally, he didn’t want to kill another man who might be an assassin. He had his suspicions, but he could be wrong.

“A map? Malik, that’s good news, right?” Altaïr hissed at Kadar, even though he agreed with him. But they weren’t supposed to mention names when they were out on a mission. His little brother knew that. The stranger’s eyes lit up for a second.

“Malik? Interesting name. You seem Arabic. How come you can speak Italian?”

All three assassins stared at the stranger. They didn’t speak whatever language he was talking about! But it made Malik think. Italian? What kind of language was that? The man clearly looked educated. Before he could think about it more though, an arrow whizzed close to his extended arm. There were guards on the roof, two of them ran right in their direction, and one archer just pulled out another arrow from his quiver.

“Oh. Forgot to mention…” Altaïr trailed off, and the stranger immediately waved them to follow him. They did, despite Malik’s better judgement. Ezio was quick, he led them away from the guard who were significantly slower than the four assassins.

But then, two new guards showed up from nowhere. The stranger changed the direction, shouted something at them, but Malik couldn’t understand. He ran after Kadar, to make sure he could keep up with them. Altaïr kept Ezio in check by running right after the man, and by the position of his wrist, Malik knew he would trigger his hidden blade at any suspicious move. He hoped he could talk to the man before that.

Another guard on the roof joined their pursuers, one arrow almost finding Kadar’s leg. Malik’s heart was pounding in his chest. They ran across the city, and he was surprised to find that Ezio really knew where to go, and they quickly lost the guards after a few minutes of running around. Then, when they seemed to reach the end of a roof, the man simply jumped. It was a perfect leap of faith.

A wide plaza was before them, and he could see a huge building that looked more important than the others. There were emblems on the walls, ornate windows and doors, an inner courtyard. One after the other, they all performed a leap of faith, and they were down in the streets in a few seconds. The man led them to the palace. The main door was locked, but they quickly entered a dark alleyway next to it, and found a hidden, smaller door there.

But before he could open it, Altaïr stepped in front of him and roughly pushed him against the wall. He was a bit taller than the stranger, but Ezio didn’t seem too intimidated. Which probably hurt Altaïr’s pride, Malik mused. Another blade was at the stranger’s throat again.

“Don’t try anything.” The Master Assassin looked as threatening as he was able. Kadar whimpered next to him, and Malik turned around in an instant, thinking he was hurt. But he was just staring at Altaïr and Ezio with wide eyes.

“Leave him, Brother. He helped us once already.” Malik growled at Altaïr, annoyed with his hot-headedness. He was the reason they were in this situation in the first place. Those guards clearly followed him from wherever he and Ezio came from. Altaïr released him, but he seemed extremely annoyed still. “Where are we?”

Where were they, really? Is this the bureau? It looked fancier than what they had in Syria. But assassins were masters of hiding in plain sight. This didn’t mean anything. Ezio smirked, then pushed the door open, with a little more force than what was necessary, really.

“Welcome to the Auditore Palace. It’s not much anymore, but it’s abandoned and safe.”

Altaïr went ahead, wanting to examine the place. A palace? Malik stayed behind with Kadar while Altaïr followed the man deeper into the building.

“He can be really scary sometimes” his brother declared, referring to Altaïr. The older Al-Sayf brother stepped in front of Kadar before he could wander off.

“What did you mean?”

Their conversation in the roof garden was interrupted, and Malik had a lot of questions to his little brother. He looked up at him, eyes full of remorse. Kadar was flustered, and not only because of their escape, that much was clear. It was bad then.

“I… didn’t remember it until this morning. But I had a dream. I think it showed me what happened.” He started, but looked away for a moment, because Altaïr was back with Ezio.

“There’s no one here but us.” His partner stated, still shooting doubtful looks towards the other assassin. “I got bandages and food. We could look at that map too.” The paper was still stuck in his belt, Malik noticed. Good, maybe Ezio could show them where they were exactly. And help them figure out how to get home. Malik wasn’t comfortable with their obvious dependence to this man, but what other choice did they have? He was apparently an assassin, so that was a good start at least.

He didn’t forget what Kadar started, but he didn’t want to discuss it in the presence of Ezio. And they needed to look at his hand anyway.

“Are you injured?” Ezio asked while Malik started to unwrap his brother’s hand. He heard Altaïr sneer. The burned palm was revealed, and he saw Kadar frown. It wasn’t looking good but burns rarely do. “I have a friend who could take a look at that. He’s a genius, really.”

“A genius?” Kadar asked, excited. “He could help us then!”

Malik had to tell Kadar to be more cautious with what he was saying in front of strangers. Even though Ezio didn’t look like someone who wanted to hurt them, they couldn’t let their guard down.

“Alright.”

*

Altaïr didn’t like it. Not one bit. This blonde man, the stranger’s friend eyed them warily when he first arrived, and Altaïr did the same to him. He didn’t seem happy to help, though he made Kadar laugh at something he said while he was looking at his injured palm. Altaïr was sulking in the corner of the room while Malik and Ezio talked. The two men looked nothing alike, but he did notice that him and the stranger had the same lip scar. Interesting.

He got it from Malik a few years back, while they were training. Actually, that was not the whole story. Malik punched him, because he was mad at him. He was always mad, but that was warranted, at least. Altaïr knew he messed up their mission and endangered Kadar’s life. It was their first and last one, for the three of them. Really, it was only his and Malik’s mission, and Kadar accompanied them because he was appointed to be an informer in Damascus for six months. The younger Al-Sayf was excellent in being stealthy, he could even sneak up on him and Malik, which was something Altaïr didn’t like very much.

Kadar helped them track down their target without a problem, but he wanted to do more. Altaïr told him to scout ahead and find them a way into the building where their target was. But he made a mistake. When he and Malik arrived, Kadar was above a guard’s body, breathing loudly, and with an arrow lodged into his shoulder. He got discovered and got injured, and Malik blamed Altaïr.

After successfully finishing their mission, they got back to the bureau where Malik finally let his anger out and punched him right in the face with the pommel of his sword and would’ve probably even impaled him on it if the _Rafiq_ wasn’t there to stop him.

“It wasn’t your place to give him a task, Altaïr.” He said to him, while they were travelling back to Masyaf a few days later. Until then, they didn’t speak at all. He didn’t get it, Kadar was fine. And he was an assassin, he’s ought to get hurt someday. He even said not to worry about it.

But he learned his lesson. Malik will always put Kadar’s wellbeing in front of everything. It seemed to be the case this time, too. He couldn’t stop being suspicious at the two strangers, but Malik let the blonde man treat his brother, and didn’t even look in their direction while he argued with Ezio over the map Altaïr got.

Ezio. What a stupid name. Was this man really an assassin? He must be, otherwise how could he even catch up with Altaïr? He was quick, smart and apparently knew exactly what he was doing when he was leading them on the rooftops. But his hidden blade was broken. An assassin can’t allow that to happen. Why didn’t he fix it, or just get a new one? He had a sword and a dagger too, so he wasn’t completely defenceless, and his armour seemed to be good quality too. It was definitely more than what he was wearing. The Masyaf assassins didn’t need clanking armour, it would only hinder their moves. They dressed as lightly as possible, only protected the important parts.

“Do you want me to look at that?”

He heard the blonde man asking, pointing at his own nose.

“It doesn’t hurt.” He answered, not even looking in his direction.

“I honestly doubt that.” The healer smiled, but it was full of pity. “I could realign it to reduce the pain, so it can heal quicker, but I guess you can wait it out too. It’ll take weeks, though. And you may have issues with it in the future…”

“I said I don’t need your help.” Altaïr was getting frustrated. They should be out there, on their way to Masyaf.

“You didn’t say that. You said it doesn’t hurt, but that’s obviously a lie.”

The man remained perfectly calm while he wrapped Kadar’s hand, but the assassin was looking at him with disbelief. He then glanced at Altaïr, clearly waiting for him to do something. No one dared to talk to him in that tone, except Malik. And he allowed him to, because he had respect for him. But this man didn’t do anything to earn his respect.

“I am a Master Assassin. You won’t speak to me like that.”

Now, the man raised his head to look at him, and so did Malik. Deep, brown eyes found his lighter ones, and warned him not to act rash. But the healer was not easily intimidated.

“I apologize, _Master Assassin_ , if I happened to hurt your feelings.”

Malik snorted. His brother still looked mortified, clearly sensing his tension. It showed his lack of better judgement when he reached out to the healer with his good hand to try and stop him to get on his feet. He did end up staying in the chair though, but Altaïr could see that he was on the edge. He didn’t seem like the type who would know how to fight. If anything, with his expensive and colourful clothes, he looked like a prince. But he seemed to know a lot about injuries, so he definitely wasn’t a prince. Maybe to Kadar, with the way he looked up at the older man. The admiration.

“Altaïr, a moment.” Malik was beside him in an instant, taking his arm and tugging him to the corridor. He hissed “What are you doing?” in his ear, before letting him go.

“Being reasonable?”

“Oh, please. Put aside your pride for a second and let them help. It’s not a shameful, to ask for help you know.”

“We don’t know them.”

“They don’t know us either, but they can act like a human being, unlike you.”

Altaïr just looked away, arms crossed. There was some truth to what he was saying, but he was certain they could figure everything out on their own.

“You can’t trust them.”

“I don’t.” Malik stepped away from him, leaning to the opposite wall. “But my brother is hurt. I need to make sure his hand is treated properly. And by the way, he might know how we got here.”

What? Altaïr cocked his eyebrow questioningly. Malik never mentioned that. If this is because of Kadar… But then again, this was all because of Kadar, wasn’t it? Malik only came to Solomon’s Temple with him because Al Mualim sent Kadar with Altaïr. He could’ve done it alone, of course. But Al Mualim wanted him to take Kadar, to learn. It should’ve been an easy mission. But Malik wasn’t about to just let his little brother go with him, alone.

He just stared at Malik, waiting for him to continue. But he didn’t. He seemed lost in his thoughts, although he still looked at Altaïr, watching him. His legs itched to cross the distance between them and touch him. Like he did the night before they went out to Solomon’s Temple. It was dark on the roof of the bureau, only the moon shined. Malik smoking, to calm his nerves. Altaïr followed him there, after he found himself alone in the garden, and sat beside him for long minutes. He felt at peace, which was a rare occurrence.

They kissed before, once. It was around the time Altaïr became a Master Assassin, and Malik was gone on a mission with his brother for several months. When he came back, they went out to the shore of the lake next to the fortress to spar, alone. Altaïr was a Master Assassin, but Malik was just as skilled, perhaps the only one who could beat him in a fight. Al Mualim didn’t promote him along with Altaïr though.  But Malik was also tired after the long time away from home, so Altaïr quickly wrestled him to the ground.

Malik was laughing. It was rare for him to do so, it caught Altaïr off guard. It was not his intention to stifle it, but he couldn’t resist.

He could still feel his body under him. After a moment of shock, he was all soft fingertips and heavy breathing against Altaïr. He fully expected to be thrown off, and when it didn’t happen, he got bold. He bit his lower lip, which made Malik growl and fight back.

That was exactly what he liked about Malik. He challenged him. He was not afraid of him like the rest.

“He said he had a dream. But you and your friend in there interrupted before he could explain.”

“He is not my friend.”

Malik smirked at that.

“Always focusing on what’s important.” He went to open the door to the room where they left Kadar and the two other man. Altaïr let him go, not caring about his body’s instinct to reach out to him. He followed him a second later.

*

He was left alone with Ezio and the man who was called Leonardo. His palm felt better after it was cleaned and wrapped in proper, clean cloth, Leonardo clearly knew what to do. According to Ezio, he was a genius, and while he was checking his hand, Kadar found out that it was true. He was an artist and an engineer, but he was interested in almost everything.

Malik and Altaïr disappeared behind the door, and the man in front of him looked after them, brows furrowed. He didn’t seem angry, only curious. Malik, on the other hand, was clearly infuriated with the Master Assassin’s behaviour.

Ezio rolled up the map and left it on the table before walking to the window to check the streets.

“Are they always like this?” Leonardo asked with a smile.

“More or less.” Kadar said, and it was the truth. He never saw the two assassins relaxed when they were near each other, there was always tension in the air. Malik was usually calm and collected, but Altaïr could make him annoyed in an instant. “Don’t mind Altaïr. He’s…”

“What did you say?” Ezio turned to him, eyes wide. Even Leonardo’s head snapped up. Kadar didn’t understand what upset them, but he remembered that he shouldn’t say their names when they were on a mission. Still, there was no explanation why they’d react to Altaïr’s name in this way.

“His name is Altaïr?” Leonardo asked before Ezio could collect his thoughts, and then turned to him. “Didn’t you say…”

“Yes. The codex.”

What codex? Kadar was thoroughly confused. He was fairly certain Altaïr have never even seen a codex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it may seem that Leonardo is a bit OOC here, but. As far as he knows, he only met Ezio once, and only helps Malik and Co. out of respect for the Auditore family. So that's why he's so not putting up with Altaïr's shit.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your comments and kudos, they make my day! I'm always excited to get feedback from you!

The two assassins came back from outside, and all three of them looked at the pair. Ezio was getting excited, he finally had a clue! Altaïr wasn’t a common name in Florence. Could this be a coincidence? He glanced back at Leonardo, who appeared to be deep in his thoughts, probably thinking about what this all meant. Altaïr seemed to be flustered, he followed the other assassin into the room, his eyes on the floor. His name was Malik? He had to go to Monteriggioni and talk to Mario. He had his suspicions, but it didn’t exactly made sense.

“What is happening?” The young assassin asked, looking from Malik to Ezio, confused.

“You are Altaïr?” Ezio blurted out and earned a hidden blade to his throat in an instant. The man himself was before him, eyes narrow in concentration. He noticed Leonardo behind him, getting to his feet, his eyes were full of concern.

“What about it?” Altaïr hissed in his face, and Ezio couldn’t help but grin. “How do you know my name?”

He saw Malik glance at the assassin whose name was still not revealed.

“Altaïr, stop.” Malik said, but the man didn’t back down. He had to grab him by the shoulder and pull him back, but the man kept grumbling about it. Then, he looked at Ezio, clearly demanding an answer.

“Sorry, Malik.” The third assassin said, looking at the ceiling.

“It’s fine, Kadar.” Malik answered with a smirk. Ezio grinned at him, getting excited. He spent the last two years in Monteriggioni, training with Mario and learning about his heritage. And he also visited his uncle’s library. There were handwritten books there about the assassin brotherhood, his ancestor’s journals, a whole report on Masyaf by Domenico Auditore, who built the sanctuary in Monteriggioni. He knew all about Altaïr’s life, and he also knew about a man called Malik who was loyal to him to the end. The books never mentioned this Kadar, though. Odd, Malik seemed very protective of him.

Leonardo glanced at him.

“Where are you three from?” he asked then, trying to prove his suspicions. Malik looked him in the eye, clearly sensing that he might know something. Altaïr was still furious, or maybe more frustrated. Altaïr. Ezio couldn’t believe it. He was not what he imagined him to be, but that was fine. As long as he keeps his hidden blade away from him.

“Masyaf.” Kadar ended up answering. “Why? Do you know how we get back? Malik said we should ask for directions, anyway.”

Altaïr tried to shush him, but the young assassin was not having it.

“I don’t think it’s that easy.”

Because today, Masyaf was nothing but a ruin. It wasn’t the home of the brotherhood, it was destroyed by the Mongols more than 200 years ago. The assassin brotherhood lived on with the Auditore in Italy, his family.

In the silence that followed his words, Kadar’s stomach growled.

Ezio smiled at him and grabbed Leonardo’s arm.

“Let’s get some food. You should rest while we’re out, and then we will talk.”

“I’m going with you.” Altaïr said, grabbing his sword on his belt. He saw Malik roll his eyes and went to the window to observe the streets.

“Very well.”

The three of them exited the Auditore palace through the back door. There were more people on the streets now, so they had to be careful. He was still a wanted man, and with the looks of Altaïr they surely will get some suspicious looks. But he didn’t want to upset the man further, so he just let him sulk behind them while they entered the street in front of the palace. Leonardo didn’t say a word while they bought some food – mostly fruits, because Altaïr seemed to gravitate towards that stall, and also because Ezio knew Leonardo didn’t eat meat – and got wine from Leonardo’s workshop to accompany their meal. The assassin seemed very interested in Leonardo’s works, although he didn’t say a word, just examined them while Ezio fetched the wine.

“You drew this?” Altaïr asked eventually, pointing to an anatomy study Leonardo nailed to the wall. The Maestro nodded, mumbling something about it not being perfectly accurate, but the assassin seemed amazed. “But how did you…”

“I cut up bodies.”

Altaïr quietened, still looking at the drawing with wide eyes.

“You shouldn’t go around telling it to anyone.” Ezio teased, which made the man smile weakly.

“Altaïr here is hardly just anyone.”

That, he agreed on. He wanted to talk with Leonardo about his thoughts, but not in front of the assassin. He had to be careful with how to approach the subject, he could easily make Altaïr distrust him and they would disappear before Ezio could blink.

They walked back to the palace, taking a longer route to avoid suspicion. When he opened the door to the room where he left the two assassins, he found Malik sitting in a chair, head lolling to the side. He woke up in an instant though, and his eyes immediately searched the room for the other assassin. Who weren’t there.

“Damn it, Kadar.” He got to his feet, and Ezio laughed.

“It’s alright, he can snoop around. There’s hardly anything left in this house.”

The man put down their haul to the table, next to the rolled-up map. It was not a good one, Malik seemed furious when he first looked at it. It did depict the Mediterranean Sea and its coast, but it was mostly drawings about the sights. Some of the main roads were on it, but it was not detailed enough to use it to navigate.

“Is this your home?” The man asked when he came closer, observing their findings.

“It was, once.” Ezio answered, earning him a perplexed look. “Two years ago, my family was framed. The conspirators hanged my two brothers and my father.” It still hurt, talking about his family lost. But Malik deserved to know the truth, he was probably the only one from the group who somewhat trusted him. “He was an assassin, you know. He didn’t tell me though, I had to find it out after his death.”

Malik regarded him for a moment, before reaching for an apple. He took out a knife and started to slice it up for himself.

“How old are you?” He asked eventually, while walking back to his seat.

“Nineteen?” Ezio was surprised by the nature of his question. The man looked up at him from the chair, knife stopping inside the fruit.

“You’re younger than Kadar, then.” It wasn’t relevant how old was he. He had to grow up quickly after his father and Federico died, and he had to make sure his mother and Claudia were safe. His age didn’t matter. “So, your training began two years ago?”

“Approximately, yes.” It was a bit less, maybe, because he was hesitant at first. But Mario was insistent.

“Impressive.” Malik said after a moment of observing him. Leonardo and Altaïr chose that moment to enter the room, quietly talking.

“I don’t consider myself a professional on this subject, but perhaps I can show you some of my studies…”

Altaïr nodded and glanced at Malik, who was still examining Ezio.

“Let’s eat.” He said eventually, because the tension was starting to become awkward. Kadar joined them a few minutes later with a blanket around him, claiming that he was cold.

*

Kadar was freezing. It was way colder in this city than back at home, as if it was winter. But it should be late summer, right? When he announced to Malik that he was cold, his brother was at his side, looking for signs of fever. There were none, but he was still cold. Leonardo told him that he had to be careful with his hand, for it can still get infected.

So, he went to look for a blanket. Malik was already asleep – he was a light sleeper who preferred to sleep a few minutes-hours at once. Kadar himself liked to get a good night’s sleep, he was too grumpy when he didn’t.

The house was bigger than anything he’d ever seen before. Well, except the fortress in Masyaf. There were big houses in Damascus, palaces and religious buildings, schools. But this belonged to Ezio? To just one man? It seemed like a waste. It could be used as a school, Kadar thought, the inner courtyard would be great for training and there were enough rooms to accommodate the students. Or a bureau, perhaps. Was it a bureau? But they didn’t meet a _Rafiq_.

The room they were in was a kitchen, once. But as he explored the other parts of the house, he found bedrooms and offices, all of them emptied except for some furniture. He found a bed, much bigger than what he had back in Masyaf. That wasn’t a bed, really, it was only a mattress filled with hay on the floor. This one stood on meticulously carved legs, had a decorative headboard. The pillows were trashed though, feathers everywhere. But there was a blanket, thrown haphazardly over the bed. Kadar really wanted to lay down for a minute. Instead, he grabbed the blanket and put it around his trembling body.

Oh, how he wanted to sit down in front of a fire now.

As he walked back to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but think about why Ezio and Leonardo seemed to recognize Altaïr’s name. It was not common, sure, but it wasn’t an interesting name by any means. As far as he knew, Altaïr never met these people before either. He surely would have jealously mentioned someone who was as clever as Leonardo.

Malik was better at making friends than Altaïr. He always seemed to know what to say and in what tone, and he often used this to manipulate others, if it benefitted him. He was not one to deceive, usually, only if he had a purpose to do so. Kadar though, sometimes he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. It was not his fault, really, he just got excited over things very quickly. He thought Malik would be angry at him for telling these people their names, even if it was an accident.

It took him a while to find his way back, and when he opened the door, Ezio and Leonardo got back already, along with Altaïr. He and Leonardo seemed to be in a better mood, they were talking about something quietly in the doorway. Ezio proposed to eat, and Kadar immediately got himself an apple, and eyed the other things on the table suspiciously. He didn’t recognize much of them.

“So, you said you are from Masyaf?” Ezio asked after they were all seated around the table. Except Altaïr, of course, who just sulked behind them, leaning to the wall. Kadar was not surprised, Altaïr didn’t like social gatherings.

“Yes.” Malik answered simply, looking over to Altaïr. He was probably thinking about how much should they share with them, because it was a possibility that if they knew everything, they’d call them crazy.

“And you are assassins.” Malik glanced back at Ezio and nodded cautiously. “That’s interesting. I thought Masyaf was destroyed.”

“They tried.” Altaïr said quickly and stood up straight. “I stopped them.”

Malik snorted. Of course. Ezio sighed and looked at Leonardo.

“I know this will sound crazy, but it is destroyed. The assassins were chased out by the Mongols, more than 200 years ago.” Altaïr moved to the table, dagger in hand. Even Malik looked confused, he stopped slicing an apple and turned the knife in his hand. Kadar knew he could throw it into Ezio’s eye before the man can open his mouth again.

“What are you talking about?” Malik asked, more calmly than he actually was, judging by his posture. Kadar noticed that he didn’t take any action to stop Altaïr, who was at the brink of jumping on Ezio.

“I think…” he started, and got quiet quickly, looking for the right words. “I think you got here from the past, somehow. Well, it’s past for me.”

Kadar forgot to breathe.

“I know an Altaïr Ibn-La’Ahad. He was the Mentor of the brotherhood for more than 60 years.” Altaïr stopped moving, eyes narrow in concentration. A Mentor? But Al Mualim was Mentor.

“What are you implying?” Malik leaned forward. He could easily drag Ezio over the table and get his hidden blade on his throat. But even Kadar understood what Ezio were suggesting. And he also knew that it was his fault.

“Brother.” Kadar stood up, and everyone looked up at him. “I think it’s time to finish our conversation.” He took a deep breath. “When we were in Solomon’s Temple, and Altaïr went after Robert de Sablé, I…” Oh, he felt so stupid. “I went to the Ark. I know you said I should stay there, but…”

“Kadar!” Altaïr hissed. He shouldn’t discuss their mission with strangers. But he was tired of not knowing anything, and it seemed that Ezio has answers. Malik just stared at him, but Kadar didn’t dare to look back.

“I grabbed it when I saw Altaïr attack de Sablé. And then we woke up here, and my hand was burned.”

“Fascinating.” Leonardo whispered, and Kadar smiled faintly. It was, actually. For a moment after he touched the Ark he thought he was dead. But he wasn’t, because his head hurt, and his hand was in pain, and Malik’s arms were around him, calming him.

Ezio beamed at him, as if he was the tutor and Kadar the student and he happened to have a good answer for a question.

“Yes, I think that was a Piece of Eden!”

“Piece of… _what are you talking about?_ ” Altaïr was at Ezio’s throat, again. The man didn’t seem alarmed though, as if this was a common occurrence. Well, it kind of was. Instead, he looked up to the man, still grinning.

"Altaïr, can't you just listen to them?" Malik groaned, and Kadar couldn't help but grin back at Ezio. 

"He better starts to make sense."

"Well if you'd let him..."

In the end, Kadar was the one who tried and succeeded to separate Altair from Ezio, since Malik was too annoyed to even deal with him. 

"Don't... ugh just leave me alone, novice." Altaïr shook off his hand and distanced himself from their group. Kadar looked at Ezio as an apology and noticed that Altair did manage to cut his throat a bit. But the man didn't really care about that, did he. 

"What is a Piece of Eden?" he ended up asking, since no one else did. 

"It's uh... an artefact of some kind. It's a bit complicated." 

"So we..." Kadar was trying to piece together the story, but he was still more confused than usual. "Travelled here in a second because of it?"

"You didn't just travel here. You travelled in time, I believe."

"Nonsense." Altaïr was still not having it, despite everything that proved that it was very possible indeed. Kadar glanced at Leonardo again, who was still amazed and looked just as deep in his thoughts as Kadar was. 

Malik, on the other hand, stood up and grabbed the map Altaïr stole. He frowned at it when he unrolled the paper, and Kadar knew that frown. He pointed at one part of the map, where Kadar noticed a (very bad, really) drawing of the Dome of the Rock. And then, he dragged his finger across the sea to a peninsula. 

" Altaïr, look. Ezio said we are here, in a place called Italy. You see how far we are from Jerusalem?" Altaïr looked puzzled, and while Kadar was not as good with maps as Malik, even he understood the distance. Although the map was not the best on that part. But he knew the distance between Jerusalem and Acre, both of those were on the map, and Florence was... 

"Ugh, that is not a good map." Leonardo sighed.

"Tell me about it." Malik smirked, but Kadar knew that he was irritated. Altaïr looked down at the map, confused. " Altaïr found the worst map possible."

"I'm sorry, next time it's your task to go out and gather information." He didn't sound sorry at all, but full of venom.

"I can at least recognize a useable map..."

Altaïr let out a frustrated groan, which made Malik flinch. Kadar knew his brother was not fond of Altaïr, but their bickering was funny at least. No one else dared to challenge Altaïr this way, but Malik had little patience for his antics. He had little patience for Kadar's, but they were brothers. 

He noticed Leonardo eyeing the pair with a glint in his eyes. 

"Don't worry, they usually stop at this point." He said to the man, who laughed quietly. And really, there was a point in their bickering where either Altaïr or Malik wanted to just punch the other, and that's where they stopped.

"It's quite alright. Cartography is indeed complicated, I dabble in it myself..."

 

After that, they finished their meal in silence. Altaïr only had a slice of apple which Malik handed to him when he didn't want to come closer to the table. Kadar tried several of the unknown foods, and even the wine, despite Malik's protest. 

Ezio said that they can stay here until they figure out what to do. It was his house, although abandoned. He showed them a secret room in an office, just in case guards come in to check on the building. After that, he left to look for someone called La Volpe. 

Leonardo stayed for a while, he was talking with Malik about cartography and other things, Altaïr went to explore the house at one point, and Kadar was content to sit on a pillow with his blanket, his stomach satisfied. 

He was listening to the whispering of Leonardo and Malik, not really understanding much. The artist was very chatty and could talk about anything. Kadar liked him and liked the effect he made on Malik. His brother was almost excited, almost smiling. Unlike Altaïr, who only seemed to annoy him. But they always trained together for some reason. 

He was starting to doze off as the afternoon turned to evening, and after Leonardo left them alone in the house, he decided to go and try out that big bed he found. 

*

"You know we shouldn't trust them." That was a strong start. Altaïr let himself in to the small bedroom Malik chose to sleep in. Well, he didn't plan to sleep much, he just wanted to be alone for a second.

"Get out, Altaïr."

"And that _Leonardo_?" His voice was so spiteful, and really, Malik had enough of him for the day. "He's too clever for his own good. I don't want him around."

Malik wanted to laugh. Altaïr sounded like a spoiled brat, and really, he was one. With the way Al Mualim was treating him, always adoring everything he did. And Altaïr loved playing the favourite.

"I said get out, idiot."

The Master Assassin frowned at him, finally getting the message. But he didn't move. At first. And then Malik threw a knife at him. He knew Altaïr would dodge it, he didn't even aim at anything important. 

"I want to stay here." He said, looking a bit hurt.

"I know this is new for you, but you can't always get what you want."

"Why not?"

Malik just stared at him. He seriously wants to do this now? He had much to think about, decisions to make. He doesn't have time or energy to put up with Altaïr. Did he really expect that after his tantrum Malik would let him stay? He had no self-control, at all.

“Go away. And try to accept that I will let Ezio help us figure out what’s happening.”

“You are not the leader of the mission.”

Oh, he wanted to laugh in his face so bad.

“This is not about the mission anymore.” He said instead, standing up from the edge of the bed where he was sitting. Altaïr took a step back, and oh, Malik loved that. “The one who gave us that mission might not even be alive anymore. So, deal with the situation, cry in the corner, whatever. And leave me alone.”

Altaïr didn’t say another word. He would feel bad about it if it was anyone else, but the _Master Assassin_ deserved every word. Of course, Malik still doubted everything Ezio said, but his own brother’s story seemed to back it up. And he would never accuse Kadar of lying. He was, in fact, incapable of lying, especially with malicious intent. He was just way too honest all the time, sometimes too much.

He was left alone in the room in the next second.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be a long one!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the next chapter for you! As I've said, it's a long one, revelations are happening. Again, thank you for your kind comments and kudos, you all are awesome! Feel free to leave me feedback or just tell me you're enjoying the story! ^^

The next day came and went by, neither the assassin nor the healer showed up. Altaïr thought it was suspicious. But of course, Malik wouldn’t listen to him, and Kadar was useless as usual. The younger Al-Sayf was whining all morning about how he’s bored and there’s nothing to do here. Which was true, the house was pretty much empty.

Altaïr decided he had enough. Without saying anything to Malik or Kadar, he left the house and went to the only place he knew. The workshop was very close to the palace, and Altaïr crossed the streets without raising alarm or getting looks.

The door was closed, but he noticed a garden the first time he was here, so he immediately headed there. He noticed an open window on the second storey of the building, and he quickly scaled the wall to get into the workshop. He heard laughter from inside. He immediately crouched when he was on the gallery and started to stalk down on the steps.

It was creakier than he anticipated.

He heard a gasp from the main room of the workshop, so he just decided to reveal himself. The artist was standing behind some kind of a wooden contraption, which had a large paper on it. Leonardo was drawing, Altaïr realized. And then he saw his model too.

A man was standing before him, but he had no clothes.

Altaïr’s face got really hot, really quickly.

“Altaïr! I wasn’t expecting you…” Leonardo said, obviously embarrassed, and maybe a bit of fear in his voice. The man in front of him smiled shamelessly.

“And who is he, Leo?” The man watched him while standing up, and then walked to the glass of water that was on the table nearby.

“Angelo, for God’s sake, put on something!”

The man ended up getting a blanket from somewhere, which he put around himself, and Altaïr couldn’t help but stare at him. He was… well endowed. The artist quickly went to stand in front of Altaïr to cover his view.

“You… are drawing him? Naked?” He asked, dumbfounded. He never heard of such a thing. Of course, it was nothing new to see a naked man. Before he became Master Assassin, he shared a room with the others. There was no shame in dressing in front of the others. But oh, now he felt it. The man seemed absolutely unashamed though, he kept shooting him suggestive looks behind the artist.

“He’s paying me.” _Angelo_ said with a grin, and Altaïr got even hotter, if that was possible. Leonardo was absolutely mortified.

“Is there anything you need?” The artist asked quickly, just to change the subject. And Altaïr could swear that there was a reason he came here, but his head appeared to be completely empty. Then, Leonardo’s face was full of worry. “Is Kadar alright?”

“I…” _Damn it, Altaïr, think!_ “I just wanted to know what’s happening.”

“Oh, out on the streets?”

What was happening on the streets? He saw fighting, but he thought that was normal. He went with it though, at least there was something else to talk about now. Leonardo’s face softened, and he went back to his drawing to mess with it a bit more, although the other man was not sitting in the pose anymore.

“That’s why you didn’t see Ezio today. As far as I know, the Pazzi tried to murder Lorenzo and his family this morning. Ezio is probably out there, hunting down the conspirators.”

“Ezio?” The model asked with one of his eyebrows raised. Leonardo immediately shushed him.

“Are you safe here?” Altaïr asked, not really knowing why. He couldn’t care less about the artist’s wellbeing. But if they knew that Ezio was friends with the man, they could try and get to him. He knew these situations well, and he was surprised that the assassin never thought of securing his friend’s safety. Leonardo laughed, and glanced back at him.

“They don’t want me.” But he was _brilliant_ , Altaïr thought with just a bit of malice. He didn’t like the man, but he was indeed the smartest man he ever met. He wasn’t wise, like Al Mualim, but he was very clever and skilled in a lot of things. Who wouldn’t want him at their side? It was only natural to think Ezio’s enemies would come for him.

“So, Altaïr, yes? Tell me something about yourself.” He heard the unknown man asking,

“Angelo, shut it!” Leonardo hissed, looking at Altaïr apologetically. The man’s voice was weirdly seductive, which made Altaïr blush. “Look, I know you don’t like me.” That wasn’t exactly true. Altaïr can admire intellect, he just didn’t like the fact that he doesn’t know Leonardo at all. And the man seemed a bit of a brat sometimes. “It’s fine. I don’t care. But don’t come around here without invitation, and if you absolutely do have to, please just knock.”

“Is this about… him?” He whispered, glancing at the model, who were smiling at him openly.

“Well, you’re one to talk.” Altaïr stared at him, confused. Leonardo noticed, and with surprised look on his face he laughed. “Oh. _Oh_.”

He didn’t wait around to find out what he meant by that.

*

Ezio left Francesco de’ Pazzi’s body on the ground and walked away in the dark. The streets were still full of soldiers, but some of them just ran after they saw what happened to Francesco. Lorenzo will be pleased to know that he’s dead, and Ezio found himself seriously wishing that when he gets back to the palazzo, Lorenzo will be alive. The man got stabbed and had a cut on his throat, which was shallow enough, fortunately, and not in the right place to cause a serious injury.

He really wanted to get Leonardo to look at the man, since he knew they were good friends. But he didn’t want to endanger the Maestro, not until the fight on the streets die down anyway. And it was hard for him to see Leonardo. He treated him like a stranger. The man didn’t seem to remember any of their previous meetings, only the one when he escorted his mother to him, a lifetime ago. In Ezio’s memories, they met a lot after that. He even slept in his workshop a few times while the man worked on a codex page. But there was no codex now, was it?

No, Altaïr never wrote it. Yet? Mario said he used a Piece of Eden to make those designs, but this Altaïr didn’t even know about any of it. He clearly wasn’t the Mentor yet. And the artefact he used, it must be the one in Solomon’s Temple. But how did he get it the first time? The books didn’t say anything about that. Maybe it was still there, then? Maybe they could use it to somehow bring Altaïr and his companions back to their own time?

It was still so alien to him, but at the same time, it wasn’t. Ezio considered himself an open-minded person, and really, this was the only logical reason. Maybe if the didn’t know about the Pieces of Eden’s existence, but since he did, it was not so unrealistic to believe that this was, in fact, the actual Altaïr.

But what about Malik? And Kadar? He knew Malik’s name, although there wasn’t much about him. He knew he was Altaïr’s second-in-command, he mentioned his name in the codex a few times. Now, they were anything but. Malik seemed to really hate Altaïr. Maybe something didn’t happen yet, something that made them close. Will it happen, though? Or will they be stuck here for forever?

And why did only Ezio remember them?

That was a question he didn’t even dare to touch.

Ezio went back to Lorenzo, wanting to check on him and tell him the news. But his doctors didn't let him into the palazzo, saying that he needed rest. 

After that, he quickly crossed the city to Leonardo's workshop, to see if he was alright. A lot can happen in the aftermath of something like this Pazzi conspiracy, Florence was in uproar, the masses could break into places where they suspect there's something to gain. And Leonardo was working with the Medici, which could make him a target. 

But the area around the workshop was quiet, which was a good sign. Or a bad one. He went for the door and knocked. 

Leonardo opened it few seconds later and seemed surprised. Of course, he can't remember how Ezio used to visit him whenever he was in Florence or found a codex page. How much they talked, about his commissions, his ideas, how he used to make drawings of Ezio while he slept. 

"Ah, Ezio." The man looked tired but waved at him to come inside. 

"I only wanted to see if you're alright. With all the fighting on the streets..."

Leonardo glared at him. Ezio never really saw him in a bad mood, he was always smiling and chatting. But something was bothering him, that was clear.

The artist closed the door behind him. The workshop was a bit messy, but that was not unusual. Papers and art supplies were everywhere, a half-finished painting tossed aside. The sound of swords clashing and men shouting was suppressed.

"Is everything okay?" He ended up asking, and the man turned away from him with a scoff.

"Ezio, you know I have a debt to your family I cannot possibly repay, ever." Ezio didn't know the details, but he knew his mother helped Leonardo with a legal problem a few years back. "But your... friends can't barge in here whenever they please! It's my workshop, where I have clients and assistants and models. I have no desire to get into trouble again!"

The man was almost yelling in the end. Ezio was speechless, he never heard him speak like this. 

"What happened?" 

Leonardo was immediately embarassed because of his tantrum, and turned away from the assassin yet again, but Ezio lightly touched his elbow to disagree.

"Altaïr was here today. He saw me drawing a naked man."

Ezio couldn't tell what was wrong about it, artists drew naked people all the time, right? But he knew better than to tell the maestro this. 

"Did he do something?"

"No, no. He was more embarassed if anything. But still..." There was something he wasn't telling him. Ezio stepped in front of him, put his hands on the other's shoulders. 

"I will protect you, Leonardo. No matter what you do or who do I anger." The man smiled at him, but he wasn't really happy. Maybe just relieved. But Ezio smiled back, reassuring him of what he just said.

"A nice sentiment, but you won't always be here nor can I rely on your mercy."

That much was true. His duties as an assassin will take him elsewhere eventually. He probably has only a few hours until he can talk to Lorenzo and then he had to go back to Monteriggioni. Which reminded him...

"I wanted to invite you to Monteriggioni. If you don't have any urgent commissions to do, of course." He was thinking of bringing Altaïr, Kadar and Malik there too, they would be a lot safer there and they can also raid Mario's library, to know more of the Piece of Eden that brought them here. "Mother would be delighted to see you. She's not the same since..."

He trailed off, looking down and his shoes. Seeing his mother like that, always quiet and full of grief - it was hard to go back there. He knew he had to, but it was still hard. Claudia acted like a brat, she always told him she was bored and complained about the tasks Mario had her do. But Ezio knew her sister. It was all just an act, really. She too had sadness in her eyes whenever she saw their mother heading for the gallery. And he also knew that she was quite skilled at bookkeeping, even though their father never taught her how to do it. 

"Thank you, Ezio. I'd love to go." There was warmth in Leonardo's eyes. He only saw it in his memories ever since yesterday morning, but not on his friend's face. He didn't know the artist's friendship meant this much to him. He missed the man, missed the talks, missed having someone outside his family he could trust.

“Now… what do you think of our guests?” He had to ask. Ezio had some grasp on the situation, but he was interested in hearing Leonardo’s theories.

“Well, they are an interesting bunch.” He laughed a little at that. “Altaïr is not the most pleasant man. From what you told me, I thought he would be more… Ah, I don’t know. He just seems way too judgemental and hot-headed to write a codex like the one you mentioned.” Ezio couldn’t help but grin at that. Yes, Altaïr was not what he imagined him to be like.

“As far as I can remember, he started the codex after he got hold of the Piece of Eden. Maybe he’s changed by then. He does seem young…”

“But Ezio, how can they be here? Does this… Piece of Eden has that kind of power? To travel in time?”

“It looks like it does.” He couldn’t tell for sure. After this though, it wasn’t exactly tempting to hold one. Altaïr was young in the late 12th century and died in 1257. He must’ve come from before he became Mentor, otherwise he would know of the Piece of Eden. So, around the 1190s? He looks like he is in his twenties, so that’s probably a good guess.

“Will you go back today?”

“I have to. I’m telling them that we will leave for Monteriggioni soon. I have to talk with Lorenzo first.” At Leonardo’s surprised face, he continued “I killed Francesco de’ Pazzi today.”

“Ah, that dog. Attacking the Medici right in front of the dome!”

“Indeed.” Ezio smiled at Leonardo’s outrage. It was so different than the earlier one. “Lorenzo got hurt, despite my intervention. I managed to escort is back to the palazzo, but I couldn’t see him today to tell them it’s done.”

Leonardo’s eyes widened at that. He was obviously worried for his patron. Ezio assured him that last time he saw him he was alright, enough at least to still talk, but the artist made him describe his injuries, so he can make a better diagnosis. He still said that he should go and see him, but Ezio couldn’t let him go out now. The fighting would die down during the night, but right now, it’s not safe yet.

“I should go now. It’s late.” The assassin smiled at Leonardo and went for the door. “I’ll come by in the morning before I go to Lorenzo. you could accompany me if you’d like.”

The maestro nodded and closed the door behind him. The sounds of fighting filled his ears.

*

The house was quiet when Malik woke up. It was still early in the morning, and he remembered a minute later where he really was. Masyaf was also quiet most of the time, so the silence wasn’t a dead giveaway. But he wasn’t in Masyaf, he now knew for sure. The bed was too comfortable. And he was alone.

He suddenly remembered the encounter with Altaïr the night before. Ugh, not the way he wanted to start the day. The man was furious, especially after he realized Malik doesn’t want him in the room.

He wasn’t blind. He knew what Altaïr wanted. But he was just insufferable most of the time.

Malik got up, got his weapons that weren’t with him in the bed. Kadar collected all pillows in the house for himself before he could even pick a room to sleep in, so he just laid out his dagger and throwing knives next to him. He left his sword under the bed and took off his cowl.

After getting ready, he went to search for Kadar, who was probably still asleep. He found him in one of the biggest bedrooms with a bed 3 people could easily fit into. He had at least 6 pillows and 2 blankets with him, and his curly, unruly hair was just as messy as ever. Malik smiled faintly at his sleeping brother. He didn’t get to see him this peaceful too often. It’s not that Kadar had too much to worry about generally – he was a good assassin, skilled, although way too lucky for his own good. But there was something about seeing him utterly calm, probably having a nice dream of a better life. Their parents were gone, they were assassins destined to die violently. It wasn’t the life Malik wanted for him, but it’s what they got.

He let Kadar sleep and went to find some breakfast. They left some from yesterday, none of them were really hungry in the evening. Ezio and Leonardo left too. Malik found some wine too, but he decided to leave it alone.

Altaïr decided to join him soon, but he was clearly still sleepy. He frowned at the food, smelled the wine and scowled.

“Good morning to you too, princess.” Malik said, teasingly. The man turned to him, but he was not in a good mood, obviously. With they way they parted yesterday, Malik was not surprised. If Altaïr can’t stop whining, he won’t be kinder to him. If only he could just show some common sense…

“What’s the plan, Malik?”

“Oh? I thought you already had one.” Altaïr just glared at him. He sighed. “I don’t know. We wait. See if Ezio has some answers about the device that brought us here.”

“Wait? Shouldn’t we escape?”

“We are not prisoners.”

Ezio wasn’t even in the house. Malik was seriously curious how Altaïr’s brain worked sometimes. The man sat down next to him and started to check his equipment. He was thinking about going out. Malik won’t stop him if he wants to get himself killed. They didn’t know anything about this city – this time, damn it –, it was safer to stay here. Altaïr clearly couldn’t grasp the concept. Even is Ezio wasn’t who they thought him to be, there were three assassins against him here. Out there, there were guards, with who knows what kind of weapons. A city where everything is entirely different from what they know.

“Don’t worry, I’m just going to go to the healer’s place. I was there yesterday, I know where it is.”

“I’m not worrying. I just think it’s unwise.”

Altaïr scoffed at that. Kadar chose this moment to walk in, his blanket still around him, eyes sleepy.

“Hello.” he greeted them and went to look out the window. When he saw that it was still early, he groaned.

“Kadar, what do you think of our situation?” Malik asked him, while challenging Altaïr with a look. His little brother turned to them, clearly surprised that he asked for his opinion. He was not as high in rank as Malik or Altaïr, so he wasn’t used to having an opinion about a mission. Usually he wasn’t the one to decide anything.

“I like Leonardo. I think he’s trustworthy.” He started and went to sit next to them. He was more comfortable with his hand, Malik noticed. “As to why and how we are here and what we should do… I think the local assassin knows more about it than we. So, we should listen to him. As if we would to a city’s _Rafiq_ , who’s job is to be informed, I guess.”

Oh, the look on Altaïr’s face. Malik was proud of his brother, he managed to teach him something at least. Kadar used to admire Altaïr because of his skills and was annoyed with Malik most of the time. That was only natural, they were brothers. He didn’t see Altaïr as the rash idiot, but someone who is proud of what he has accomplished, and Kadar wanted to be like him. Which is a worthy goal, to be as skilled as Altaïr, but the man still had deficiencies, and his brother couldn’t see that yet.

Malik tried to suppress his smile.

“You two are just scared.” He would’ve laughed if Altaïr weren’t serious. Instead, he just gave him a pitiful look.

“We are not scared. Just reasonable. Which is not your strong suit.” Malik quickly snatched the wine from Kadar’s hands before his brother could drink from it. “Even Kadar knows his duty, and he is no _Master Assassin_.”

Oh, his voice was full of venom, he knew that. And Altaïr won’t change his mind. It was useless to reason with him. The man stood up quickly then, but he didn’t go for the door. He just left the room in the way that lead to the other parts of the house. Malik let him sulk.

“You could be nicer to him.” Kadar said over his piece of bread. He sliced up a bit of cheese to accompany it.

“Why? He never listens to me.”

“He does listen to you.” Before Malik could let out a sceptical snort, Kadar continued. “You just don’t notice it, because you expect him not to listen to you.”

Malik didn’t answer, just finished his meal. He stole a piece of cheese from Kadar, accompanied by Kadar’s whine. He just grinned at him while chewing on the food. After that, Kadar went back to his room to nap a bit more, since it was still early. He headed for one of the offices he saw yesterday, where the hidden room was. When he first saw the house, it seemed as if it was emptied completely, but he just wanted to check again.

The room was small, compared to how big the whole house was. He knew one of the doors led to the courtyard, but he won’t touch it. The last thing they need is a prying guard. And anyone could see it from the outside if the door opened. He turned to the bookshelves, but they were clearly empty. The desk was cleaned, and Malik quickly checked the drawers. Nothing, nothing on the left side. Same on the… oh. The top drawer didn’t open immediately, and Malik noticed a small keyhole under the handle.

He also noticed the marks around the edge. Someone tried to open it, but obviously didn’t succeed. Not without the key… But Malik had a hidden blade. After a few minutes of fiddling, he managed to pull the drawer open.

There was a small portrait of a gorgeous woman on top of a stack of papers. It was a painting, but Malik has never seen a painting this realistic. As he observed her features, he realized that she must be Ezio’s relative. Her dark her was pulled back, the same shade as the assassin’s. Ezio also had her nose and eyes, but she had thinner lips.

Malik noticed that it was signed. L. DA VINCI, 1476. Is this Leonardo’s work? He remembered that he introduced himself something like this. He couldn’t help but wonder. The man could heal wounds, paint and was also expert in cartography. Interesting. He is certainly a useful ally to have.

But what about the year? Malik knew the Christians had a different calendar than them. He didn’t have the energy to convert the date, but he knew that the letters he stole from Christians back in his time during his missions were all dated in their 12th century. So, they are around 300 years into the future. Leonardo was young, the painting can’t be that old. Malik had to stop for a minute.

300 years.

And there were still assassins? What about the templars? Ezio didn’t mention them. They defeated all of them? And what about the other Crusaders? Were they still fighting for their Holy Land? Malik had so many questions. Maybe Altaïr’s idea to visit the artist wasn’t that foolish. He was an educated man, he could answer Malik’s queries.

He checked the papers in the drawers, but they were not that interesting. He could understand that they were about money, so he just put them away. He kept the painting though, maybe Ezio would want it. Of course, he won’t be happy that Malik went through his father’s office, but he will take his chances.

He found a few books lying around, probably left there because the person who moved everything from here deemed them useless. He spent the next few hours reading them, surprised that he could understand it. Ezio said they were speaking Italian? Malik still didn’t know the language, but he was clearly speaking his own. In fact, Ezio was speaking it too. It didn’t occur to him at first, but now it was painfully obvious that the Piece of Eden made them understand each other for some reason.

Oh, if only it could help Malik understand Altaïr. That would be a miracle.

It was well in the afternoon when his stomach growled. He ended up leaving the office and went to the kitchen, where he found Kadar, playing with his dagger.

“I hope you left me some.” Malik said to him while he glanced at the table their food was kept. Kadar nodded with a grin. So, he was also drinking the wine. Perfect. Malik sat down next to the window. Weirdly enough, he heard fighting. As he observed the people out there, there were two group of guards, fighting each other on the streets. Odd.

“Do you know what’s out there?” He asked his little brother, who simply muttered a no. “Where is Altaïr?”

“He left, I think. I didn’t see him since morning, but he’s not in the house. I checked.”

Perfect. Just perfect. Everything is going amazing, Malik thought bitterly. There were fighting on the street, Altaïr is nowhere to be found and his brother might be drunk. Just perfect. He forgot his food and went for the door, moving some furniture to block it as well as he was able. Kadar let out an “aw, my pillows!” but Malik just disregarded that and barricaded themselves in. If there were fighting on the streets – and it seemed serious, they were soldiers after all – it meant marauders. If they came in through the front door, Malik and Kadar would be able to hear them and escape through the back door if needed.

It’s not that they couldn’t fight off marauders. It’s just the fact that Altaïr was missing and Kadar was not exactly sober. And he won’t put his brother’s life in danger. Where the hell was Altaïr anyway?

Malik checked his equipment again.

Sure enough, he heard someone enter the house not long after. Kadar was dozing off, and he quickly wake him up and told him to be quiet. The robber – or robbers – were crashing things, clearly looking for something. He then heard footsteps in the corridor on the other side of the door. After they couldn’t get in, they started banging and kicking the wood. Malik had his sword in his hand and ushered Kadar to the back door.

But before he could act, the person stopped. In fact, he heard a painful shout being silenced, and then, a body hitting the floor.

“Malik!” He heard a familiar hissing through the door.

It was Altaïr. The man had perfect timing. Malik moved the cabinet a bit, so the assassin can slip into the kitchen. He looked around, saw Kadar next to the door, and Malik, with his sword drawn.

“What are you doing?”

“Where were you?” Malik said instead of answering, glaring at the man. “Do you know what’s happening out there?”

Altaïr stalked to the window and looked out.

“Leonardo said there was a conspiracy to murder someone important.” He looked at Malik, clearly ignoring his furious look. He went to see Leonardo? Oh, he was going to strangle him. “Ezio went to kill them.”

_Well, let’s just hope Ezio is as skilled as he looks._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I feel like there are some things to clarify. I'm not sure if this is canon, but I always thought that the Auditore saved Leonardo when he was accused of sodomy in 1476. That's why Leonardo has a debt to Ezio's family, and why he became friends with Maria. Anyways, that's what's happening here! :D  
> One other addendum: I'm not exactly sure what calendars people used back then, because I know that the Gregorian was implemented in 1582 as a correction to the Julian one, so it can't be that different, but I'll just use whatever you can find in history books. And what Malik mentions here is the Islamic calendar, which starts at the Christian 622. They used other calendars too but I'll just assume the assassins used the Islamic one. Anyways, why it's a bit hard to convert is that the Islamic consists of lunar months.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aaand we are moving to a different location!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I just now realized that Ezio is much more clueless about everything at this point in the game, but let's just say he knows more about the assassins. He definitely didn't know that Paola or Volpe were assassins. Mea culpa, guys. But thank you all for reading, things start to get interesting now I swear! Kudos and comments make me very happy, so I'd love it if you could tell me what you think of the story so far!

Ezio came back that night. Kadar was in the kitchen, because Malik put him there to punish him for drinking the wine. It wouldn’t have been a problem if someone didn’t break in right when he was just tipsy enough to impale himself on his own sword. The assassin brought back food and water with him, and Kadar was sure that he stole them, since the fighting on the streets was still going on, no merchant would set their stalls up in this mess. He waved at Kadar, before letting out a sigh and sitting down next to him.

He put away his dagger. It was still bloody.

“You killed the conspirator?” Kadar asked, and Ezio quickly turned his head to him, glaring at him questioningly. “Oh! Altaïr found it out from Leonardo. He went there today, even though Malik forbade him…”

Malik rarely had no reason to forbid Altaïr something, and Altaïr usually did it anyway. Ezio seemed lost in his thoughts, so Kadar decided to tell him what happened that day in the house. He told him about the robbers, and how they incapacitated them. Malik didn’t let Altaïr kill the rest of them, like he did with the first one at the kitchen door. They just knocked them out and took them out to the courtyard. Malik said they would be too scared to come back, but they barricaded all the doors except the back one, just in case.

“Thank you.” The man smiled at him, and Kadar couldn’t help but do the same. “I don’t live here anymore, but I don’t want it ransacked by the mob.”

“I understand.”

They sat in silence then, but his brother chose that minute to step inside the kitchen. Kadar looked up at him, noticing that he was glaring at Ezio, and then at Kadar. Oh. He should’ve told him that Ezio was back.

“I’m going to catch some sleep.” The assassin said, standing up. He went past Malik but looked back at them. “We will talk in the morning.”

Kadar nodded, and watched as Malik closed the door behind him.

“You should sleep as well, brother.” He said before sitting down where Ezio sat a second ago. “It’s well past midnight and I can’t sleep, so you might as well.”

“I thought you were angry at me.”

Malik smiled faintly.

“I’m not angry at you, little brother. How’s your hand?”

It felt surprisingly healthy. The warmth in his palm subsided since Leonardo’s work on it, and he didn’t feel pain most of the time during the day, if he didn’t outright touch it. The told Malik that.

“Well then, don’t touch it.” He said with a smirk, and Kadar could only snort at that. They fell into silence, and Kadar – despite not having pillows and blankets with him – started to doze off. He only felt minutes pass, but when he woke again, it was already morning, judging by the light coming from the windows. He almost fell off his chair at that moment but managed to not do exactly that.

Malik, Altaïr and Ezio were already in the room, awake and talking quietly. When they noticed Kadar was awake, Ezio smiled at him and left the group.

“We’re leaving for Monteriggioni today.” When Kadar still stared at them confused, Ezio continued “It’s my family’s home. My mother and sister are already there, as well as my uncle, who is also an assassin. You will be safer there, and maybe we can get some answers.”

Kadar nodded. Malik ushered him to get ready, and he went to the room he chose to get his full equipment. He had most of his things on him, but he left his throwing knives and belt behind. After he returned to the kitchen, Ezio already packed the food he brought from the day before and gave Malik some money.

“I have to go and talk to Lorenzo de’ Medici briefly, but you three should go to Leonardo’s workshop” He glanced at Altaïr quickly “and get him ready for travel. Tell him we meet at the eastern gate and to get all of us horses.”

With that, Ezio left the house, and not long after they did too. Altaïr led them to Leonardo’s workshop. When they arrived, Altaïr knocked on the door, and waited patiently for the artist to open it.

“Oh. Hello.”

“We’re leaving.” Altaïr said plainly, then looked inside the workshop. Malik pushed him aside and briefed the artist about their journey. Leonardo listened to him attentively, occasionally glancing at Altaïr. He invited them in then, motioning them to sit and started looking around the workshop.

“How’s your hand, Kadar?” He asked while collecting some art supplies to the centre of a table.

“It’s fine, thank you. It’s not burning hot anymore. A bit itchy, though.”

“That’s good, that’s good. Don’t scratch it, and you’ll be fine.”

After several minutes of Leonardo running up and down his workshop, he collected mainly clothes, art supplies and notebooks. He put a few books on the pile too, but when he started packing them, he realized he had to leave some behind.

Kadar didn’t sit down like his brother and Altaïr. He looked around the place in awe. There was a smaller painting, nearly finished, it depicted a woman with a baby on her knees. Both had golden rings above their heads, and the woman was giving a flower to the baby. There was another similar picture next to it, but it wasn’t painted yet, only a sketch. He also saw plans for some kind of a vehicle, with wheels, but it didn’t look similar to anything Kadar had ever seen.

Leonardo gave Malik some of his hand drawn maps about the city, which Malik appreciated. He said something about it being a proper map, just to tease Altaïr. The artist laughed but thanked him and let him examine it while he was packing his things.

Not long after they left the workshop and went to the eastern gate, as Ezio told them to. Leonardo led them through the city, telling them all about its landmarks. First, they stopped in front of a huge cathedral. Kadar looked up on it in admiration. There was a tall tower next to it, and in front of the façade, an octagonal, smaller building.

“This is the Baptistery” Leonardo pointed at the latter “probably Florence’s oldest buildings. It’s a shame we don’t have much time, I would show you the wonderful work of Ghiberti.” He then informed them that the cathedral was called Cathedral of Saint Mary of the Flower, and the large tower the Campanile, the work of someone called Giotto. Kadar really wanted to see the inside of the dome, it must be marvelous. He never saw anything like it, except maybe the Dome of the Rock. But that was entirely different, and he never saw the inside of that either.

They turned left from the plaza to a smaller, quieter street. They walked straight for a while, then just before they could reach another bigger square, they turned right. Kadar got lost very quickly, but he followed Leonardo and Malik, who still had the map in his hands and asked Leonardo questions about it. He didn’t listen, though, he didn’t know much about maps anyway. The buildings here were so fancy, as if they were in the rich district of Jerusalem. The weather was just not as warm. And there were less guards, and they didn’t seem as ready to fight. They were mostly just chatting, not even looking at people. How strange.

Eventually, they reached the gate. At least some things didn’t change, this city was also surrounded by tall, thick walls. Kadar immediately checked how he could climb it, but there weren’t too many options. Leonardo told them to wait there, and he went to a stable nearby.

“Are we really just going to leave with them?” Altaïr asked impatiently, glaring at Leonardo’s back.

“Yes, Altaïr, I thought that was clear.” Malik folded the map he got from Leonardo and put it in one of the artist’s bag. He ended up bringing four, and aside from Altaïr, they helped him carry them. Altaïr let out a frustrated growl at Malik’s answer, but his brother only smirked at him.

“But what if what we need is here? There is a reason we all woke up in this city.”

“It’s not like we can’t come back. Don’t be stupid.”

That seemed to be the end of the conversation. Ezio arrived a few minutes later, and then they were on the road.

*

Altaïr was starting to get frustrated. They’ve been travelling for 3 days now, and Ezio told them they will reach the place this evening. Altaïr was sure they would already be there if it wasn’t for the artist. He kept saying he wasn’t used to riding, so they had to take breaks a few times a day. Ezio justified it with the horses needing breaks too, so they either camped not far from the road or at a settlement. They spent the first night at a smaller town, but since they couldn’t reach another one during the second day, they slept outside. The artist ended up treating his nose, which was bruised and bloody by then.

The landscape was pretty, Altaïr couldn’t deny that. It was similar to the rocky mountains that surrounded Masyaf, but it was more cold here. They took a mountain path today, Ezio said they had to cross it to reach his villa.

They didn’t spoke much during the journey. Altaïr deliberately separated himself from the others, only occasionally speaking to Malik or Kadar. There wasn’t much to talk about, though. They just had to wait and see what they’ll find at Ezio’s place. Altaïr’s best idea was to try and get back to Jerusalem. If they were removed from their own timeline (which he still doubted), then the Ark should still be there. It could be used to bring them back.

Malik told him when they took their first break that he found a painting Leonardo made in 1476. If that was true, they were almost 300 years in the future. Altaïr wasn’t sure how to feel about that. His fellow assassin seemed to accept it though and planned accordingly. While Altaïr desperately wanted to convince him that they should get back to Jerusalem instead of wasting time, Malik said it’s reckless to try and sail through the sea before they know better. They should at least find out if Solomon’s Temple is still there, he said to him, because it was already in ruins when they went there. It’s very possible it disappeared in the last 300 years.

There was some truth in that, Altaïr knew.

Kadar was always either with Ezio or Leonardo, the younger Al-Sayf was chattier than them for sure. Altaïr rarely paid attention to his babbling, but he knew that Malik did, just to make sure Kadar doesn’t accidentally tell them sensitive information. But he seemed to enjoy himself, more than Altaïr for sure. He often heard Leonardo or Ezio chuckle.

“We should take a break.” Ezio stopped his horse and looked back at them.

“You said we are close. Shouldn’t we just hurry up and get there already?” Altaïr asked, and immediately earned a glare from Malik. Ezio smirked, and asked Leonardo how he’s feeling. Altaïr knew the artist was sore from riding, but surely, he too would want to get to the villa already?

“I think Altaïr is right. I can rest when we arrive, it’s not that bad.”

Ezio nodded, and they continued. Malik rolled his eyes at Altaïr, and quickly went after the assassin and the artist.

They really reached the villa a few hours later, well into the afternoon. The road went uphill for a while until they finally saw the walls. From the outside it looked more like a fortress. As they got closer, he noticed the stables where they soon stopped and gave the horses to a man there. The rest of the group got Leonardo’s bags and they went for the big gate that disrupted the thick walls. As they walked inside, it became clear to Altaïr that it wasn’t just a villa, but a small settlement too, with shops on the main street, a lot of houses and even a church.

The main street was wide, and it led to an ornate fountain, stairs on both sides. They went up to the top level of the settlement, where only one building stood. Altaïr figured it had to be the villa. He immediately noticed how big it was: two storeys and another level on top, almost like a tower. A big garden surrounded it, but it was kind of neglected.

A man appeared at the main entrance. Ezio went ahead and talked to him shortly before waving to their group to follow him. He introduced the man as Mario, his uncle. He was blind to one of his eyes, Altaïr noticed, and had a huge scar over it too. He was old, not as old as Al Mualim, but still had wrinkles around his eyes.

He didn’t trust him, at all.

Mario eyed them equally wary, but then turned back to Ezio and told them that he doesn’t have rooms for all of them. Altaïr just rolled his eyes. Leonardo ended up following Ezio into the house, and the uncle led them away to where they came from. They went back to the village, where Mario showed them a small building he owned. It was simple and relatively clean, with thick walls and doors that they can lock. It’s more than what they had in the bureaus.

He left them there without a word.

Kadar went ahead and chose a room for himself. The room they were in was some kind of a hall, or dining area, with a table and chairs and a fireplace. From then, there was a door that led to a corridor, to the bedrooms no doubt, and he also saw a narrow wooden staircase that led somewhere upstairs. There were plenty of cabinets and chests to store their things, if they had any. But there was some basic equipment – pots, plates, some spices and the like.

“He wasn’t very friendly.” Altaïr heard Kadar say after he came back from exploring their new place.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“But it’s a nice house. The beds are not as big, though.” The young assassin went and sat down to one of the chairs and started to take off his weapons and armour when they heard knocking.

Malik went for the door, before Altaïr could, but he had his dagger ready. It was only Ezio, though. The handsome man let himself in, with a big smile on his face.

“Ah, it’s good to be back. Welcome to Monteriggioni.”

“Enough of this. You said we would get answers once we arrive.” Altaïr stepped in front of the man, weapon still in hand. If he was lying…

“I suggest we all get a good night’s sleep. There’s also a brothel if you want to…”

“No. What I want is to know what you’re hiding.”

“I’m not hiding anything. I just think…”

“I don’t care. You promised answers.”

Now, Ezio was a bit more riled up than usual. Altaïr would’ve grinned if he didn’t want to look threatening.

“I said we might get answers here. There’re decades worth of information on the assassins and the Pieces of Eden, it will take some time to get through them. For now, you may rest after the journey or go to the brothel to enjoy some company.” Altaïr didn’t want company. He was getting impatient with how the man seemed to talk in circles. He noticed Malik, he sat down next to Kadar, not really caring about what Altaïr is doing.

“Altaïr, enough.” He heard Malik a second later, and he decided to back off after he finished glaring at Ezio furiously. “I would like to rest, personally. Thank you for getting us accommodation, Ezio.”

“My pleasure.” Ezio bowed slightly in the direction of Malik, who nodded at him. “Mario informed me that there’s a bathing room if you want to have a bath. I can send someone to get it ready if you need it.”

Altaïr’s anger flared up again. Did this man just insult them? They were clean enough. Kadar got excited though, and Ezio said he would see to it, with a laugh of course. Why did he liked to laugh so much? There was nothing funny about the situation. Malik was smiling fondly at his brother, and then looked up to Altaïr, but there was nothing warm in that.

Ezio left a minute later after he made sure they had everything. He left the brothers and went to find a room where he could be alone with his rage.

*

Altaïr was not the person he thought he’d be. Judging by the codex pages, he was a smart and patient man, and he and Malik seemed to be friends, or at least on good terms. But he was… nothing like that. He was still young, though, probably around Leonardo’s age, but even Ezio was more mature. This Altaïr was arrogant and quick to anger, way too cautious and couldn’t trust anyone, from what he’s seen. Well, he seemed to trust Malik to a point, but they were not friendly with each other, at all.

He headed back to the villa, where he left Leonardo, Claudia and their mother. He escorted the artist to Maria’s room upstairs, and at first, his mother didn’t recognize him. But then, her eyes lit up just slightly, and it was the happiest he’d seen her in the last two years. She remained standing next to her bed, though, and Leonardo cautiously walked to her. Ezio could tell he was stunned to see Maria like that. But the artist hugged her with tears in his eyes, and to Ezio’s wonder, Maria hugged him back weakly. She never hugged back, not even Ezio. She never acknowledged anyone in her room.

It made Ezio happy, even though it wasn’t him who cheered her up. Leonardo always had that effect on people, didn’t he? It was one of the reasons why Ezio liked to go to him whenever he found a codex page. It was hard to see him so neutral to him now. But he wouldn’t force Leonardo to like him, of course. It seemed that those times were over. Now, they weren’t even friends, really. He was just interested in this whole affair, he was here with them out of curiosity. Time travel? Pieces of Eden? It’s certainly something he would be very interested in.

He got to the villa, and after entering he immediately spotted Claudia on the stairs.

“Claudia! How’s mother?”

She looked up, eyes icy as always. She was in a foul mood, that much was clear.

“She’s fine. The Maestro was talking to her for a while, but they’ve retired for the day now.”

“You should too, sister. You look tired.”

Claudia only scoffed at him, but Ezio didn’t take it to heart. He knew she was unhappy here, but so far, there weren’t many alternatives. She informed him that she still has some tasks to finish, and she still must organize everything to accommodate his guests today.

“Don’t worry about them, they’ll be fine. Maybe just send someone to draw them a bath, that should be enough for today.”

“Where are your manners, Ezio?” She teased, finally smiling faintly. “I shall do that, then. I’m also sending them some dinner, they must be hungry.”

“Good idea.” He did not want to see Altaïr when he was hungry and even more irritated. But as he thought back to it, he didn’t eat too much since they met, did he? Kadar was always interested in food Ezio brought, and he wasn’t even too cautious about it, as Malik. The man mainly ate fruits, probably because that was the safest.

Claudia stormed off then, and Ezio decided that he would retire for the day too. He always had a room ready at the top of the villa. As he crossed the balcony to Mario’s study to reach his room – since his mother’s chambers were already closed – his uncle spotted him from below.

“Ah, Ezio!” He bellowed from below. Perfect. Ezio didn’t really want to deal with his uncle today, he thought they should talk tomorrow, when he was well rested. He only told him to find some accommodation to his guests, as he referred to them, and he hasn’t seen him since. “What a surprise to see you back here. I thought you’ll be away for a while, hunting down Francesco?”

Oh. So, he hasn’t heard, then. Strange.

“I already did, uncle. Lorenzo gave me the names of the rest of the conspirators, too.”

“That’s good news then! Come down here, let’s talk.”

Ezio told them of the Pazzi conspiracy, how Lorenzo was injured, and how he killed Francesco de’ Pazzi. He also gave Mario the list of names he got from Lorenzo, which made the man think. They planned their next steps, even though Ezio became tired very quickly.

Mario didn’t seem exhausted at all.

“And what of those three? Who are they?”

Ezio took a deep breath. He was curious if Mario would recognize their names, although the wall where they put the codex pages was empty. It made him kind of sad, he spent so much time collecting the pages. One of the reasons was that they contained important information. The other was that it made Leonardo very excited whenever he brought a new page he could decode.

“They are assassins from overseas.” That much was true. “Their names are Altaïr, Malik and Kadar. They’re not very friendly with strangers, so don’t be offended.” Mario regarded him for a second, then nodded. He didn’t ask why they were here, because they both knew that Monteriggioni was Ezio’s home as well, he could bring anyone here if he wished to. “We would like to use your library tomorrow.”

Ezio was on his way to his room a few minutes later, finally. His uncle told him to retire, because he looked like he could drop dead at any second. He didn’t say that he was going to do exactly that before Mario called him down to his office. When he finally reached the ladder, he was sure there wouldn’t be anything that could possibly separate him from his bed.

He was wrong.

After getting into the room, he immediately spotted Leonardo, standing in front of a painting depicting Vieri de’ Pazzi. Ezio killed him before he killed his father. But both were Templars, they didn’t deserve mercy. The artist turned to him when he heard him arrive.

“Ezio.” He nodded, smiling a bit awkwardly. The assassin quirked one eyebrow at him but went to the weapon rack and started to take off his equipment. “I was hoping we could talk privately.”

“Of course, my friend.”  He took off his cape, then his vambraces with the broken hidden blade. He felt Leonardo’s eyes on him, even though he didn’t see them man himself.

“Are we friends, though?” Leonardo’s voice was quiet, almost whispering. Ezio nearly missed it. He stopped unbuckling his chest guard and turned to the man. “I know something isn’t right.”

They didn’t really talk about what changed for Leonardo with Altaïr being here, and now. The codex disappeared, that was clear, and apparently, it was the reason the two became friends. It was hard for Ezio to search for that in Leonardo’s eyes, when the affection wasn’t there anymore. He really was his only friend, and to lose him…

“That’s an understatement.” He grunted, and took off his chest guard, finally. He hissed at the sudden pain from his left side. The old Leonardo would be at his side immediately, but the artist just stood there, eyeing him nervously. Ezio took off his pauldrons quickly and groaned again. He sure was bruised. “Nothing to worry about, Leonardo. I’m just glad you’re here. You are the only one who could get a reaction from Mother.”

“Ezio…” The artist started again, looking at him with sadness. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”

There was a lot he didn’t tell him. He didn’t know anything about Templars, who they were and what they were doing. He knew that Leonardo didn’t mean that, though. From his perspective, Ezio treated him as a friend, even though it wasn’t exactly warranted.

“Before Altaïr showed up here… Before everything changed, I mean – we were good friends.” Leonardo watched him walking to his bed and pulling off his greaves, then his boots. “You were probably my only friend.”

He didn’t like to get so personal with him, especially since their relationship changed. But the artist seemed determined to get an answer from him. Ezio looked up at him and found that Leonardo finally moved from his previous position and came closer.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

Leonardo smiled, but it was not honest, he knew.

“Perhaps I could look at that.” He said eventually, pointing at his bruised side. Ezio just waved him off, saying it’s not so bad. It hurt, but he had worse. The silence became heavy, and Ezio almost fell asleep sitting up before Leonardo quickly excused himself and disappeared from his room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Asdsdjfhjd I feel so insecure about my English writing skills I'm so sorry if it's really off, I'm trying T-T


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rather long chapter of revelations!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A warning: I know nothing about sword fights. But I was excited to write one nonetheless. Anyways, I'm really sorry if it's off, I tried my hardest to research the topic.

Malik woke up before the others. He went for a walk during the night, wanted to explore the village and the surrounding area, and then came back to their building to sleep for a few hours. The sun was almost up, and he got his equipment and went out again. He left his sword, he doubted he’ll need it, and if he did, he still had two daggers and a dozen throwing knives. This time, he went straight for the villa. He heard swords clashing when he reached the steps, but he knew there was a training ring there. Similar to what they had in the Masyaf courtyard. There were a couple of mercenaries around it, and he also saw Ezio’s uncle, training one of them. The man immediately spotted him too, but he only glanced in his way for a second before focusing on his opponent.

He wanted to look for Ezio, but he was intrigued about Mario’s fighting now. He really fought like a mercenary. His technique was mainly offensive, he very rarely let his opponent have a strike at him. They only fought with wooden swords, but Malik figured Mario was used to heavy, two handed swords, judging by his figure and fight style.

Ezio’s uncle quickly finished the fight, pinning the mercenary to the edge of the ring. Malik pushed his hood back and stood next to one of the mercenaries, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Boys, it seems we have a spectator.” Mario said with a grin and nodded in his direction. “Fancy a fight?”

The mercenaries all but yelled at him to take up on Mario’s request. Malik pushed himself off from the railing and took the wooden sword from the defeated man, who just jumped out from the ring. Malik observed the weapon. It was not very heavy, which was expected, but it was longer than what he was used to.

He jumped the fence easily and watched as Mario took his place on the other side. They regarded each other for a long minute, and then, just as Malik suspected, Mario lunged forward, striking at him from above. He easily blocked it, and stepped to the side with a twirl, almost hitting the man’s sword arm. Mario pulled back, but attacked him again a second later, and for three-four strikes, Malik couldn’t do anything but step back and back until he almost reached the edge. Letting Mario think he would just withdraw until there wasn’t any space left, on his next strike he ducked from the blow and quickly stepped to the man’s side again, gaining some space behind him.

He faintly heard the men cheer, but Mario was on him again, he could barely block his heavy blows, but now, he didn’t let him think he could drive him to the edge again. After a few blows, Malik noticed that the man got frustrated and maybe a bit sloppy. He clearly wasn’t used to fighting with someone for this long.

On his next attack, Malik block his strike again, bending his knees more and using his momentum, he thrust upwards, barely missing Mario’s chin. Manoeuvring would’ve been easier with a short sword, he was more used to that.

He could barely block Mario’s next attack, even though the man was clearly stunned by how close Malik got to him. But now he got offensive, too. Mario’s blows were mostly high ones, which took a lot of energy, but was effective. It was harder to block, but Malik stepped into it, and answered them from either below or from the side. Mario was getting tired from his attacks earlier, and Malik just got warmed up. His arms were trembling a bit, but he thought that was only because he was not used to a longsword.

Malik got defensive again, aiming to tire Mario a bit more. He parried a few more blows without attacking back, stepping back and back again, until Mario got sloppy again. He cut in his direction horizontally, and Malik ducked, and twirled to the left a second later, to Mario’s blind side. His sword hit the man’s back, and if it was a real one, it would’ve been very painful. Malik grinned at the man, who looked at him in surprise. The mercenaries cheered and whistled, and Mario let out a loud laugh.

“You were trained well, I see.” He threw his sword away. It was a low blow to attack Mario’s blind side, but every sensible fighter would’ve used it to their advantage. “My men could learn some patience from you.”

Malik knew his biggest strength in swordfight was his endurance and patience. Sometimes he was too careful maybe, but better be cautious than dead. He smiled at the man, and jumped out of the ring, where the mercenaries clapped him on the back. Mario was laughing behind him still, and it made him smile too.

“Ezio is already up, if you’re looking for him. I suspect he’s either with his sister in the office or up at the gallery.”

Malik nodded and headed to the building. Once he stepped inside, he immediately noted how unnaturally white it was. Pale marble floors and stairs filled his vision, and as he looked to his right, he spotted one of the offices. A young girl sat behind the desk, which made him quirk one eyebrow. She must be Ezio’s sister, then. He walked into the room, but he couldn’t see Ezio anywhere. The girl noticed him immediately and put down her quill.

“Are you looking for Ezio?” She asked plainly, with a frown on her face. She was young, younger than Kadar since Ezio was younger than him too. Probably around 16 or 17. Malik nodded and stepped in front of the desk to introduce himself.

“I’m Malik.” He said with a faint smile, which made the girl blush, just a bit. But he wanted to be polite to Ezio’s family, since the man was doing everything he could to help them.

“Claudia.” She answered and continued her writing. “Ezio is upstairs in the gallery with Maestro da Vinci.”

“Nice to meet you, Claudia. And thank you.”

The girl nodded, and Malik left the office to go back to the hall, and then up the stairs. He immediately saw Ezio and Leonardo, standing in front of a painting. Leonardo was excitedly explained something to Ezio, who spotted Malik over the artist’s shoulder. He let him finish, though – he was talking about someone called Piero della Francesca – before excusing himself and walking to Malik.

“Thank you for entertaining my uncle.” He said before clapping him on the shoulder. Well, _entertaining_ wasn’t the word Malik would’ve used. Ezio must’ve saw them from the window, and Malik suddenly felt self-conscious. “You fight well.”

Ezio was weirdly mature for his age, Malik noticed. Kadar was older than him, and he was still more childish than this young man. Kadar had his own hidden blade and basic sword, as well as a dagger and a few throwing knives, but his equipment were not as good as Malik’s or Altaïr’s. His lower rank was also indicated by the colour of his robes. His cowl was a dark grey, and the sleeves of his attire was also a dark black. Meanwhile his and Altaïr’s whole attire was white, completed with the red sash and he decorated belt. This system didn’t work here, clearly. Ezio’s clothes were way more decorated, but that seemed to be the case with everything here.

“You’re up early.” Malik stated then, earning a chuckle from Ezio.

“I don’t sleep too well these days.”

Maybe he should wake Kadar and Altaïr? They could start their research now, although he doubted any of them would prove useful. But as Ezio said, there’s plenty of information to look over. Malik looked around in the room, really observed the paintings on the walls now. He’d never really seen a gallery like this, or paintings this realistic. Almost all of them were religious scenes, judging by the Christian iconography on them. He never would’ve thought that Ezio liked art.

“Where’s Altaïr? I thought he would be up by now.”

“He doesn’t really like to wake up early.” Malik almost _chuckled_. “And it’s been a while since my partners could get a good night’s sleep without watching their backs.”

Ezio nodded at that, seemingly understanding the problem.

“Maybe we could talk then? There’s a lot I’d like to discuss.”

“By all means.”

They went out into the garden, so Altaïr and Kadar could find them easily. They sat down to some benches, and Leonardo pulled out a notebook and some chalk and busied himself with drawing.

“You could start by telling me what happened before you ended up in Florence?” Ezio asked tentatively. Malik considered his next words carefully, not knowing how much Leonardo knew about the affairs of the assassins and the crusaders.

“Our Mentor, Al Mualim sent us to Jerusalem, to Solomon’s Temple to retrieve an artefact for him.” The assassin nodded, that much was clear so far. “That’s the gist of it. I’m not sure what you want to know. If you’re interested in the artefact, maybe we should wait for Kadar, he was the one who saw it.”

“Alright. Do you know why your Mentor wanted the Piece of Eden?”

“He didn’t say.” In Masyaf, the assassins didn’t know much about their missions, only those who were the highest in rank. Maybe if Altaïr asked, Al Mualim would’ve told him, but the man’s respect for their Mentor was too great to question him. And Altaïr wasn’t one to question too many things. “Only that it was too important to let it fall to… the enemy.”

“Templars?” Ezio asked, and Malik noticed that Leonardo raised his head and looked utterly baffled. Were the assassins still against them? Malik hoped that by now one of the sides would won. Preferably the assassins of course. Ezio noticed Leonardo’s look too, so he explained. “The Templars were disbanded, and their Grandmaster was executed a long time ago. But they continued to work in secret.”

“Oh.” Well, that was not good. One of the reasons the fight was so easy against them is because they could spot templars from far away. Originally, they formed to protect the pilgrims, so there were many on the roads and little settlements throughout the land. But if they work in secret now… They were harder to find.

Malik wondered what changed on their side, now that Altaïr was here, in this time. He couldn’t know how the confrontation between Altaïr and de Sablé would’ve ended, but he knew Altaïr survived, since Ezio knew him as a Mentor of the order. But did he kill de Sablé in Solomon’s Temple? And what happened with Al Mualim? Ezio did say Altaïr was Mentor for more than 60 years. But then he had to become one very young.

The artist stared at them questioningly, but Ezio didn’t seem to notice. Eventually, he had enough of the silence.

“Assassins fight against… the Templars? The order from the Crusades?” Malik nodded. “And you came from those times, when they were still active?” He nodded again.

“The Third Crusade started two years ago. For us, at least. And the Siege of Acre just ended.” They heard the news when they arrived at the bureau of Damascus on their journey to Jerusalem. It’s only been days, then. It was centuries away now. He wasn’t even sure if these people even knew it happened, although there probably were chroniclers who wrote it down, on both sides. Still, that didn’t guarantee that it was known now.

“That was around the 1190s, I think? I know the Fourth one ended in 1204, when they established the Latin Empire.” Leonardo said, thinking out loud. Malik tried not to show his surprise, hearing that there will be – or, there was – a fourth crusade. He still heard the town criers clear as day ( _a crusade for what?_ ), and he kind of agreed. The crusaders fought through the land, but then again, Salah ad-Din did the same when he conquered the Kingdom of Jerusalem.

Malik saw his fair share of war. Everyone did, really.

*

Kadar woke up late. He knew it even before he could look out to check. The bath yesterday was too good, he hasn’t been this relaxed in years. He groaned, and got out of bed, almost falling because the blanket was around one of his feet. A few minutes later he stepped out of his room in his assassin robes and with his weapons. He quickly checked Altaïr’s and Malik’s room, but they were empty, just as he thought. Kadar ate something before he left the building.

Monteriggioni was not as big as Masyaf, but it was _dense_. The streets were narrow, the buildings were high, and Kadar quickly got lost. But he didn’t mind it entirely. It was an interesting and different place. The buildings looked much like their accommodation, and he wasn’t sure he could find his way back there. At least he was safe here. It was an assassin stronghold, wasn’t it?

He passed a building, which was a bit fancier than the others. It had red curtains outside, ornate lanterns on the walls and flowers in pots in front of it. There were also women there, sitting on a bench or just leaning to the wall.

Oh, he knew what kind of building it was, now. Ezio did mention a brothel.

He quickly turned his back to it and went the other way. A few minutes of walking later, he reached a familiar street. He realized it was the main one, which led to the villa. It wasn’t very late, he realized, as most shops were still closed, but it was late for an assassin.

Malik must be at the villa already. Kadar stopped looking around and went straight for the stairs with the assassin insignia, now that he found it. As he scaled the steps, he heard swords clashing, and soon he saw why. The man from the night before, Mario trained a few other men. He didn’t want to stare, so he quickly went to the top of the stairs, but before he could pass the ring, he heard someone shout.

“Hey! You look familiar…” One of the men eyed him with a puzzled look. “Oh, you look just like that guy from before!”

Mario turned around, the fighting stopped. Kadar couldn’t help but step closer with interest.

“Malik was here?”

The man nodded and a few of them grinned. Ezio’s uncle went to the fence of the training ring and regarded him with a lazy smile.

“You’re his brother?”

“Yes?” Kadar said with a bit of uncertainty in his voice. Mario looked like he wanted to say something, but then he just waved and told his men to stand down. He then informed Kadar that his brother is with Ezio and Leonardo in the garden behind the villa. So, the younger Al-Sayf brother said a quiet ‘thank you’ and went to the direction Mario pointed. He quickly noticed the three figures sitting outside on some benches. As he got closer, he could separate them. Leonardo was on a single bench by himself, which forced Ezio and Malik to sit on one. But the artist had a sketchbook in his lap and a few art supplies next to him.

Ezio was wearing his clothes from yesterday, only his hood was down. Malik also wore his assassin robes, but he didn’t really have else to wear. They really should get something else to wear, the uniform wasn’t too subtle.

“Ah, Kadar! Good morning.” It was Ezio who noticed him first and greeted him with a big smile on his face. Malik looked over, and then looked up at somewhere. Leonardo started to make some space on his bench, but Kadar said it was okay and sat down on the ground next to Malik. “You arrived at the perfect time. We were just talking about the Piece of Eden.”

“What did it look like?” He heard Leonardo ask eagerly.

“Um… it was in a gilded box?” At first, he thought that the box itself was the Ark, but he figured out that it was just a case for something. It would’ve been hard to carry the whole box, so he opened it. “There was a ball in there. It was gold, I think. There were strange patterns on it.” And it glowed bright from the inside. Kadar’s memory of it was somehow hazy and clear at the same time. Leonardo asked if he could make a drawing of it, and Kadar took the sketchbook and the chalk from him. He never really drew things, that was Malik’s hobby, although he only drew maps.

He tried to make a perfect circle, but it was hard. His hand wasn’t used to this, but he managed to make a decent circle. Then, the patterns. They were geometrical, lines with little circles mostly. They encompassed the whole object, and Kadar wrote down next to it that it was gold, and that the pattern glowed.

“Interesting.” Leonardo whispered as he looked over to his drawing. “It does seem like it’s man made. Maybe some kind of device?”

Ezio seemed to be deep in his thoughts. He didn’t say anything, but Leonardo rambled on about some of the new inventions of the last few years and then talked a bit about his own projects. Kadar handed the sketchbook back to him and looked up at Malik.

“Did you see Altaïr? He wasn’t in his room when I left.”

 “He’s up on the roof.” Malik snorted. Leonardo let out a surprised cry. Kadar looked up, and there he was, barely visible against the light sky in his white robes. Well, he was Altaïr, this was exactly what Kadar would expect from him. “He’s been watching us the whole time.”

“How did he…” Leonardo started to say but trailed off quickly. He gestured towards the roof, and Kadar heard Ezio chuckle.

“That’s nothing. I once climbed the Campanile.”

“You did _what_?”

The artist was clearly outraged, and Kadar could understand. He didn’t really have an eye for art, but judging from Leonardo’s speech about Florence’s buildings, he loved and respected them, so Kadar could imagine his horror when hearing that someone climbed on one. Ezio just laughed.

“Don’t worry, I didn’t break off anything this time!”

“ _This time?_ ”

Altaïr decided to join them then, clearly noticing that they knew he was there. He climbed down while Malik took the sketchbook to look at his drawing again, and Kadar just tried to stifle his laughter. The Master Assassin didn’t sit down, just stood behind Leonardo’s bench, so that he could keep any eye on the assassins.

“You said you have information of these Pieces of Eden?” Malik said then suddenly, clearly not caring about Altaïr’s arrival.

“Yes. The notebooks are in the library, I can bring them here if you prefer the garden?” Ezio offered, and Malik nodded at him while still examining the drawing. Kadar suddenly got self-conscious about it. Did he remember right? He wasn’t sure.

A few minutes later Ezio came back with a stack of books. Some on the top were tiny notebooks, but there were large ones too. They spent the next few hours reading through them, except Leonardo, who seemed occupied with drawing them while they were reading. Altaïr was outraged when he noticed he was drawing them – which meant he glared at the man furiously and when Leonardo didn’t notice, he grunted to get his attention.

Kadar didn’t find much. He got a diary of sort, one of the smaller books. It was a description of Constantinople mainly, but later it mentioned Masyaf too. It was written by two brothers, Niccolò and Maffeo Polo. He never heard of them, but they lived a generation after Kadar. It was weird, how they were older than him, but they were long dead. They apparently travelled a lot and visited Masyaf too. The reason was not very clear to Kadar, but something caught his eye…

The Mentor in that time was called Abbas.

Malik noticed his restlessness. He handed him the journal and pointed at the sentence. He wasn’t surprised, but Kadar could tell he was worried.

“Altaïr…” He hesitated for a moment. Ezio told them Altaïr were to become Mentor one day. Clearly, he didn’t exist in this past, but still, that didn’t make it better that Abbas became Mentor. The Master Assassin looked up at Malik, when his brother finally continued. “This says Abbas was Mentor after Al Mualim.”

“ _Abbas?_ ” Altaïr almost shouted. Ezio stared at them in disbelief.

“Is that the Polo brothers’ journal?” He asked, looking at the notebook in Malik’s hand. Kadar nodded. “Interesting. When I last read it, it said that Altaïr and his son inducted them into the order…”

They all shared a puzzled look. Altaïr had a son? Or, will have a son? Kadar couldn’t imagine it, especially because he never really understood the concept of family. His mother died when he was born, and his father followed her when Altaïr was still young. He only had Al Mualim, really, and a brotherhood of skilled killers. Kadar had Malik, and most of the other assassins too had families either in the village or further away somewhere. He heard him say too often Malik shouldn’t care so much about his brother, shouldn’t put him before anyone else in the brotherhood.

No, Kadar couldn’t imagine Altaïr being a father.

Ezio noticed he said something wrong, and quietly swore to himself. Should they know their future? Kadar wondered what will happen when they get back to their time (he didn’t want to think about if it’s possible at all) – will they remember any of this? Will it still happen if they do?

Altaïr didn’t want to comment on the subject, just stared at the notebook in Malik’s hand.

“Well, I found something too.” His brother said while he gave back the diary to Kadar. He had a book about the Templar Order in his lap. “Robert de Sablé definitely didn’t get the artefact. In fact, he disappeared completely not long after he became Grand Master.”

“But that was…”

“In the same year we went to Solomon’s Temple, yes.” Malik seemed to consider his next words, and then with a sigh he just said it. “There’s a possibility he and his men travelled in time too.”

Altaïr snarled and got up, throwing the book he was reading to Kadar. He left them in the garden without a word. Kadar looked up at Malik, who just stared after the assassin with his brows furrowed.

“Well, that’s… not good news.” Leonardo said eventually after the long silence.

“We will hear about them eventually.” Ezio was right, if Robert de Sablé was here, they would know it soon. At least Kadar hoped they had informers. He was an informer in Damascus for a few months before – it wasn’t the hardest thing to do, he just had to listen. And he was good at sneaking around.

*

Altaïr walked out of the town, outside the gates. He was furious and impatient with how slowly they were progressing and most importantly, annoyed at Abbas. They were best friends when they were children, sure. But then, Abbas betrayed his trust. He called Altaïr a liar, of all things. And that man became Mentor! He was weak! He couldn’t control the brotherhood, he can’t even control his emotions!

He turned to the left and just started walking next to the walls. Oh, and de Sablé! If he was here somewhere, they had to find him and kill him. Ezio said the Templars were disbanded, but they were around still. Robert might have the means to find them, he might work on the same thing as they were right now. To find the Piece of Eden and get back to… whenever. He might be sailing to Jerusalem already! And they were wasting time here. What if he has other plans? What if he doesn’t even want to get back but help the Templars now? There was no point in going back for the three of them then, if Robert could just undo everything.

His knuckles hit the wall next to him. The pain made him a bit more sober, but he was still so irritated and felt hopeless. The confident Altaïr was gone, he felt like a mess. Why was this happening to him? And what if he would never be Mentor now? He always wanted that, it was the highest rank he could ever achieve. But _Abbas_ can become Mentor. Abbas, who was years behind him in training, who couldn’t even believe his best friend’s words.

And what if they can’t even get back? How was he supposed to live here? What was even their order now? A small town and a villa, which belonged to one family? He didn’t like this nepotism, he truly believed a man should be judged by his skills. And that’s why he wanted to be the best. But now it didn’t seem possible. There was no one to judge his skills, no one he trusted at least.

He was also annoyed at how calm Malik and Kadar acted in their situation. Oh, his hand was hurting. How could Malik, the most reasonable man Altaïr knew aside from Al Mualim just accept everything a stranger said to him? Sure, he looked like an assassin. They had their symbol all over this place. This Mario seemed to be their Mentor. But Altaïr still didn’t trust it. Couldn’t trust them. He missed the order from his life. It was only a few days ago since they woke up in Florence, but since then they’d been without any direction. Generally, they always had Al Mualim’s or the bureau leader’s orders. They had purpose.

Now, they had nothing.

They were here in this strange land without any clue what to do. And it was something Altaïr never knew he’d be afraid of.

“You really want to ruin your hand too?”

Altaïr never heard Malik’s steps. Not anyone could sneak up on him, and annoyingly, the Al-Sayf brothers were usually very successful in that. He didn’t turn to the man but stopped abusing his hand on the walls of the villa. The assassin walked to him and sat down on the ground suddenly. Altaïr followed without a word. There were no one on the roads now, and they couldn’t see the gates to the town anymore either. They were completely alone, just the strong wall behind their backs and the Tuscan landscape before them.

It was almost as if they were back in Masyaf. Altaïr often went to the outside of the fortress, where there was no one but him, a wall behind his back, the river below him and the rocks overlooking the mountains. Almost. But the sounds were wrong. The weather was wrong. The smell of the air was wrong.

“You are spiraling, Altaïr.” Malik said without looking at him.

He noticed that his hands were trembling. His knuckles were bloody, and he was suddenly aware of his injured nose too. It didn’t hurt much anymore, the swelling went down. Leonardo wanted to put something on his nose to help the healing, but Altaïr wasn’t going to run around with bandage on his face.  

“I hate this.” He whispered, still refusing to look at the other.

“I know.”

Of course. He knew, because Altaïr couldn’t control his emotions. The Master Assassin took a deep breath and looked up at the sky. At least that was the same.

“Shouldn’t you be reading?” He sneered and decided to finally glance at the man.

“I most definitely should.” Malik wasn’t looking at him, he examined the scenery. Or he just gazed at nothing, deep in thoughts. Altaïr couldn’t tell. “But I decided to come after you before you can accidentally kill yourself.”

He scoffed at the remark. As if he could accidentally do that. But he was careless, that much was true. He didn’t notice Malik on a completely flat land, which wasn’t as excusable as not hearing him approach. Malik won’t hear him admit it, though.

“Did you find out anything else?”

The older Al-Sayf regarded him for a second before answering.

“Are you sure you want to talk about that?”

Altaïr wasn’t sure. He just wanted to close his eyes and forget he was here. So, he did exactly that instead of answering. It was easier to imagine he was in Maysaf this way, even though there were details that just weren’t right. Back at home, he could always hear the novices training, the shouting and swords clashing. Faintly hearing the blacksmith from the village. The water below him, slowly cascading between the rocks. And birds, chirping and singing.

Suddenly, there was a hand on his.

He looked up at the other man, who just squeezed his fingers. Altaïr smiled, scar stretching on his lips, which captivated Malik for a swift second.

“You are infuriating.”

Altaïr just kept grinning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for your wonderful comments! They always make me so happy, don't hesitate to leave a few words if you want! :3


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A rather short chapter. I'm sorry I've been a bit slow with writing lately, but only because I wasn't at home much.

It was a long day of research, reading the books from Mario’s library and taking notes. Ezio wrote down meticulously what he remembered and what seemed to change. Around lunch time he went to get some food and drink to the group – sans Malik and Altaïr, who disappeared for an hour or so – and in the afternoon Leonardo offered to look at his hidden blade and see if he can fix it. Ezio tried to refuse, he said he would bring it to the blacksmith, but Leonardo seemed almost offended. He told him he was curious about the mechanism anyways, so he let him go with the weapon.

That left Kadar and him alone, and he found that he wasn’t as uncomfortable with that as it was expected. The youngest assassin was his age, and he was easy to get along with. Much easier than Malik or Altaïr. Ezio found out that Kadar was actually Malik’s brother. He heard them call each other brother before and now saw the similarity too, but Malik did the same to Altaïr, so he just thought they meant the brotherhood.

They continued to read in silence until it started to get dark. The other two assassins came back a bit before that, and Altaïr seemed much calmer than when he ran away. Ezio didn’t care specifically, but he was glad his mood improved. It was easier for everyone to be around him.

Mario’s personal notes on the Pieces of Eden turned out to be very useful. They now had notes on every known artefact. His uncle was reluctant to give him this, because he still thought Ezio wasn’t ready. He told him about the Pieces of Eden before, but not too many details, and Ezio suspected there was still a lot even Mario didn’t know. He wished he could talk to his father now. Giovanni hid a lot of things from him, but surely, he could answer some of his questions.

Most of the Pieces were either in Templar hands or heir location unknown though. That made things a bit more difficult. There was nothing on the one in Solomon’s Temple, though. Nothing concrete at least. So far, they knew that Al Mualim sent his best man to retrieve it, but he failed. So, he never got his hands on it, apparently. Why didn’t he send others after Altaïr didn’t get back? Maybe something happened? Maybe Abbas overthrow him before he could to it? That was a possibility. He didn’t know who this Abbas was, but Altaïr seemed to hate him. He wasn’t surprised, Altaïr didn’t really like anyone. But so far all he read about him is that he was not a bad Mentor, although he relied heavily on advisors.

As the sun started to set, he heard Kadar groan, and then the he just laid down in the ground. Ezio smiled and put down his own book that he was reading.

“I want to die.” The young assassin said and extended his injured hand to the sky to examine it.

“Does your hand hurt?” Ezio asked quickly, looking at him with worry. Burn wounds were bad, especially because of the blisters, which Kadar had a few of. Leonardo bandaged it again before he left to work on the hidden blade, and told Kadar to take care of the blisters, because if they pop, they can get infected.

“No, I just never thought reading can be this boring.”

“It’s not boring.” Malik said without looking up from his own book.

“Malik. I just read through 20 pages of some random castle’s water supplies.” He sat up again and glared at his brother. “There’s no way I will ever use that knowledge. Ever.”

Ezio snickered at his tone. It reminded of himself, when he was younger and was just a spoiled brat who skipped his lessons to sleep around in Florence. He couldn’t care less about his father’s lectures back then. He wished he was listening to him now.

“If you wanted to lay siege on that castle, it would be vital information, little brother.”

Malik did sound like his father, just a bit. He was gentle in explaining, and the manner he was talking made it clear that he was right, and he knew it.

“Well, I don’t plan on doing it anytime soon, smartass.”

He suspected Kadar was the only one who could get away with calling Malik smartass. Just like he and Federico. Oh, why did they remind him so much of his own family? Thinking about them didn’t sting as much now, but he still avoided it if he could.

“It’s better to know than to not know.” Malik said with a smirk on his face, aimed at his brother. “It takes nothing but time to learn, and no one could take knowledge away from you. Anyone can learn how to wield a sword, but a good mind is harder to replace.”

Altaïr scoffed. Malik disregarded him and went back to read his own book.

They finished their research for the day not long after. Ezio thought it was a successful day all in all. They found out some things about what happened after the assassins disappeared from Solomon’s Temple, although they weren’t any closer to finding out where to find a Piece of Eden. But they were getting there. Ezio suspected that by hunting down the rest of the conspirators, who were also Templars, he could find out more. Mario was already working on finding out where they were hiding. They all fled Florence, so it will take some time to track them, but Mario had spies and mercenaries all over the countryside.

He gathered the books, walked back to the building, and put them down next to Mario’s desk. They would continue tomorrow, but he was hungry and tired for now. And there were other things to do. He wanted to check on Leonardo, see if he needs anything, and there was a painting at the art merchant’s he had to pick up.

As they went through the villa, they ended up in Claudia’s office, and it dawned on Ezio that he hasn’t even introduced the assassins to his sister. Claudia wouldn’t mind though, it was not very exciting to have 3 more men in Monteriggioni. But still, if they stay for a while – and that was very likely, his sister should at least meet them once.

“Claudia!” He greeted her with a jovial smile and outstretched arms. She looked in his direction with a scoff.

“Ah, Ezio! Are you done for the day?” Leonardo was in the room too, where he worked on his hidden blade. The artist sat on a small stool and Ezio’s hidden blade was in front of him on a table, completely taken apart. What was he doing here? Seeing his confusion, Leonardo obliged. “I decided to entertain your sister, since she seems to be so alone here.”

“Did you make any progress with the blade or were you two just gossiping all day?” He teased, and the artist laughed.

“Oh, we did both, don’t you worry.”

Claudia was trying to hide his smile.

“Anyway” he started and looked over at the assassins. “I don’t think you met our guests, sister.”

“Actually, I met Malik earlier today.” Claudia informed him and waved at the man, and then stared at Kadar. “I bet you are his brother, you look so alike.”

“Kadar.” He said quietly with his face all red.

“And this is Altaïr. They’re assassins from the Levantine Brotherhood.”

Claudia nodded, and put down her quill before standing up from her chair. She run her hands over her skirt to smooth the out the wrinkles from sitting. She wore a simple, deep red dress with puffy shoulders and white lace over her chest. She also had a sash around her waist, like what the assassins had. On the back of the chair she had a long coat with rich flowery pattern, which she put on her shoulders as she joined their group.

“I was going to get some dinner. You might as well join.”

She really did change over the past two years. Ezio still remembered her being heartbroken over that bastard Duccio, how she cried in his shoulder and asked him to make him pay. She relied on her friends’ opinions back then and was a brat most of the time. But then again, Ezio was not better. They were nobility, after all.

But now she was more like their mother. She stood straight, with her head held high and she didn’t show much emotion. Of course, she occasionally let out some remarks about how she’s bored with managing the villa’s finances, but Ezio knew she was starting to like it. She became a formidable businesswoman over the past months, and while she was still young, the merchants in the village respected her. Ezio couldn’t be more proud.

*

They ended up having dinner outside, next to a fountain at the back of the villa. Servants set up a table there and brought various meals and drinks. Kadar sat next to Altaïr with Claudia in front of him. Ezio disappeared in the house but got back a few minutes later with an older woman next to him. He led her to the table where Claudia motioned him to let her sit on her left.

As Kadar found out a few moments later, the woman was Claudia’s and Ezio’s mother. She didn’t say a word, though, which made her presence a bit eerie for Kadar. But his attention was quickly diverted as he looked over the food on the table. There were several plates of different kinds of meat, fruits and vegetables, and there was a whole tray of cheese with some bread and butter. They also served wine, and the dinner quickly turned into Ezio and Claudia teasing each other through witty remarks, with Leonardo throwing in some comments with a smirk.

He laughed carelessly, cheeks flushed from the wine. Altaïr looked just as sour as always, and Malik was quiet, although Kadar knew he was enjoying himself. It was in the way he quirked his eyebrows and how there was a lingering almost-smile on his lips. He was relaxed, and Kadar realized he haven’t even seen him like this too many times before.

He noticed that Claudia was watching him with a smirk.

“So, Kadar, right?” He nodded and brought his wine filled glass to his lips. “Tell me about your brother.”

Malik choked on his own wine, but Kadar only grinned.

“What would you like to know?”

“I’m right here, by the way.”

Claudia just laughed and patted his brother on the shoulder. Kadar suspected that she was a bit tipsy, but that was probably true for everyone at the table, except Altaïr of course. The older woman retired after a few minutes of eating, with Leonardo escorting her into the villa before coming back with another bottle of wine.

“Is he always so broody?”

“Most of the time.” Kadar answered to Malik’s dismay. “Especially when Altaïr is near. They’re constantly at each other’s throats.”

“Oh?” She quirked an eyebrow. “In what way?” Kadar couldn’t help but burst out laughing. What did that even mean? Did Claudia just imply… He glanced at Malik through his tears, who just groaned and turned away from them. “Altaïr’s blushing!” Claudia pointed at the man in question with a big smile. Kadar almost immediately heard Altaïr stand up and storm away from the table. His brother looked after him, the amusement on his face disappearing.

“Claudia, behave!” Ezio yelled at them from the other end of the table. She just giggled, and Kadar couldn’t help but smile too.

“I can’t help if he’s too shy to handle me.” At last, Malik snorted at her comment. Kadar noticed that Leonardo got weirdly quiet, he was looking at somewhere over their heads. The night was a blur after that – he faintly remembered Mario stumbling on them, and he sat down next to Ezio, clasping at his shoulder while downing a whole glass of wine in one go. He soon felt drowsiness and Claudia’s legs touched his under the table. She was pretty. As much as Ezio was handsome, Claudia was just stunning. Her dark brown hair got a bit loose during the evening, a few curled strands fell in her face.

Kadar was completely enthralled. He doesn’t see too many women as an assassin of course, so it might just be because she was something new. They were free to have relationships and certain… experiences, but Kadar wasn’t exactly interested in it. Or – he was interested, just haven’t had an opportunity to act on it before. Malik wouldn’t let him go to a brothel anyway.

*

Kadar was utterly drunk. Malik tried to take his glass away, without success of course. He didn’t drink as much – but he welcomed the faint dizziness and the warmth in his stomach. He felt like he could let himself go here. He didn’t entirely trust these people, but they’ve done enough to consider them fairly harmless. Ezio seemed extremely friendly all the time, even when Altaïr threatened him. His sister was cheeky and sometimes outright obnoxious, but she was very polite to them before she got drunk along with Kadar.

Mario was talking about their fight in the morning with bold gestures, almost knocking down Ezio’s glass. He couldn’t help but grin at the man. He was impressed by Mario’s physique, for his age he was in very good shape still. Even Altaïr couldn’t fight in that style, no matter his obvious skills. Speaking of Altaïr… He wanted to go after him. He really did. But he figured that Altaïr can deal with it without him. He didn’t need to leave, really. Claudia was just too playful for her own good after a few glasses of wine.

The servants took their plates away, since they seemed to finish dinner. The food was good, Malik couldn’t remember the last time he felt this full after a meal. And they needed some alcohol to wind down after today, at least they can get a good night’s sleep with hazy thoughts and dizzy heads. The thought that Robert de Sablé could be here was not a pleasant one. But it’s a likely possibility, given the information he found today. The other case would be that he died later that year, but surely the book would’ve said that, and not that he disappeared. The Templars would’ve found out if he just died somewhere.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Leonardo shuffling to the chair next to him. He couldn’t blame him, Mario and Ezio were talking loudly and with quick gestures, flailing their arms around. The artist didn’t seem as drunk, but Malik saw him emptying one or two glasses. The wine was stronger than what they had back in Florence, and Mario informed them that this was made here. It wasn’t watered down as much, probably because Mario didn’t sell it, but kept it for their own consumption.

“Where did Altaïr go?” The man asked eventually after a few minutes. Altaïr was still nowhere to be found. Hopefully he just went back to their building instead of terrorizing the village. His partner didn’t drink at all, he didn’t like how alcohol made him behave.

“I don’t know, and I don’t really care.”

Leonardo regarded him with a suspicious look.

“I think you should.”

Malik glared at the man for a long second. What’s that supposed to mean?

“He’s a grown man.” And it was _Altaïr_ they were talking about. Even if Malik wanted to care, he wouldn’t let him. “He can leave the party early.”

That earned him a chuckle. Malik glanced at Kadar, who was talking with Claudia enthusiastically, and so he wasn’t really paying attention to his brother. He could tell Kadar liked the girl.

“I don’t think you know just how much _he_ cares.”

That was a bit ominous. As far as Malik knew, Altaïr didn’t care about too many things. He cared about his rank, sure, he wanted to be the best. That was his sole goal in life. He wanted to make Al Mualim proud (even if the old man didn’t quite deserve his devotion).

“And how would you know?” That was the question, wasn’t it? He was absolutely sure Altaïr wouldn’t talk about his feelings with Leonardo, of all people.

“I just know how to read other’s emotions and behavior.” His voice was husky, and he leaned closer before continuing. Malik wasn’t sure if it was because of the alcohol, or because he didn’t want the others to hear. “Even a blind man can see the tension between you two.”

Tension? Of course, there was tension, Altaïr is just frustrating!

“I’m not sure what you are implying.”

“I think you know.”

Malik just stared at the man in shock. How did he know? Altaïr wouldn’t tell anyone about their… whatever it was, right? It was frowned upon, in some places they even punished this attraction with death. The creed didn’t say anything about it, but Malik knew all too well that the other assassins would just settle it between themselves.

“And _I_ think you shouldn’t say these things aloud.”

Leonardo didn’t back off but continued to examine him instead. It wasn’t as unsettling as it probably should have been, though. Malik only had good impressions of the man so far, and he was quite sure he had no ill intentions. But what were his intentions then?

But the man just ended up smiling at him. Malik found himself utterly confused. If he didn’t want to blackmail them with this or something, what did he want? And then, just as the thought crossed his mind, he figured it out.

“Oh.”

Leonardo knew what to look for, because he was like Altaïr. Well, in one way at least. The artist looked alarmed for a second, but then he just melted back into his chair and lifted his glass to take a sip. But Malik grabbed him by the hand and dragged the man away from the table. No one really noticed, especially not Kadar, who was still listening to the girl with flushed cheeks.

He eventually stopped next to the wall of the building, out of sight. The artist let out a surprised shriek when he shoved him to the wall, and then Malik was pressing into him aggressively.

“What do you want?” It was clear he wanted something with this information. And if he wanted to disrupt their search for this Piece of Eden, Malik had to do something. Leonardo’s eyes were wide with shock.

“I don’t want anything, I swear!” Slowly, the man relaxed, and Malik decreased the pressure on his shoulders, his other arm releasing his dagger. “I just… I know it’s hard. To live with a secret like that.”

It was no secret, really. It wasn’t anything. They kissed twice in the span of two years. It was nothing. It meant nothing to Malik, right?

“You don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing between me and Altaïr, and that’s the end of it.”

“I understand.” Leonardo said with a gulp. He was clearly terrified of Malik’s outburst, and for some reason, the assassin felt bad about it suddenly. It was warranted though. He let go of him and heard a relieved sigh immediately after. “I clearly overstepped the boundaries. I apologize.”

Malik nodded, and watched as the artist went back to the others.

*

Something poked his face. Once, and then a second later, again. Kadar mumbled something about wanting to sleep, but then he heard a deep grumble and his eyes snapped open. Where was he? It took him a few seconds to take in his surroundings. He slept in a very comfortable bed – no, it was more like, a bench? A bench with pillows? He also had a blanket around his waist and ankles. Oh, his head hurt.

A man stood in front of him, and he quickly realized that it was Altaïr. Malik usually keeps his hood down, but Altaïr just likes to hide his face. When he was younger, he didn’t even know how he looked like before they became friends with him. Well, friends was a strong word. It was more about him and Malik, they went on several missions together. Sometimes Kadar tagged along.

But now he was glaring at him, like he was going to murder him in this instant.

And soon, he found out why.

He wasn’t in the bed he slept in yesterday. He wasn’t even in the same room. But then… oh. _Oh_. He almost immediately noticed the bed in the middle of the room, and it was occupied. And since Altaïr was awake, and Malik couldn’t be it…

He heard a groan from the bed. And Kadar was fairly certain it came from a woman. Oh, Malik is going to kill him. What happened last night? He remembered that they were drinking wine in the evening. And Mario joined them later. He could also recall how Altaïr left early, but then… He was talking to Claudia? Ezio’s sister?

Wait.

She was in the bed?

“Get up.” Altaïr demanded impatiently. Kadar tried to escape the blanket, and when he finally did, his head was spinning. But the assassin grabbed him by his elbow and started tugging him out of the room. They went down some stairs, turn left and left again, and then right, and then Kadar was entirely lost until they reached the main hall of the villa.

At the bottom of the stairs, Malik was waiting for him. Along with Ezio and Mario.

Oh shit.

Malik didn’t say a word, just glared at him. Ezio also regarded him for a second, and looked over at Altaïr questioningly, but then he turned to Mario.

“So, my uncle has some news.”

Mario nodded. Kadar just noticed that he had some papers in his hand.

“My mercenaries stationed at the countryside reported that Antonio Maffei and Bernardo Baroncelli fled to San Gimignano.” Kadar looked confused. He didn’t know any of these names. Why did they had to wake him up for this?

“I’m going to travel there and kill them.” Ezio announced, and his uncle nodded again. “They are part of the Templar group here, led by a man named Rodrigo Borgia.”

“Then I’m going with you.” Altaïr declared, clearly not taking no for an answer. Ezio smirked, and then looked over to Malik, who also said he would go with them. No one asked Kadar, and it hurt him a little bit. But right now, he was also nursing a hangover, so who cares, really. They can go on a mission all by themselves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A much needed drunk night. I'm so sorry Kadar, for embarassing you.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another long chapter in which we follow the team to San Gimignano.

It took them a few hours to arrive at San Gimignano on horse. They left Kadar back at the villa, and for once Malik didn’t object. The younger Al-Sayf had a terrible hangover. The town was larger than Monteriggioni, and Altaïr could see the towers from far away. It reminded him of minarets a bit, they surely are a good viewpoint to get an overall picture of the city. The surroundings were mainly vast fields with small houses, and they passed a big church too.

Ezio led them to the gates of the city where they left the horses at a stable. The gate was open, but there were guards standing there. Only four though, not really a challenge for three assassins. But as Altaïr started to stride to them, Ezio stopped him with a hand on his chest. He quietly motioned to the city wall somewhere behind them, and Altaïr spotted a gap there, with conveniently placed boxes. He grunted but followed the other two there.

A few minutes later they were on the streets, walking up stairs and then crossing narrow and dark alleys, but suddenly, Ezio stopped in the middle of the street. Altaïr quickly noticed a group of mercenaries next to a blacksmith’s shop, and Ezio was already on his way to them. He talked to the men, always glancing around for guards. There was a patrol, but they were walking away from them. Altaïr could take them down if they were to cause trouble, though.

Malik wandered away from him, to another shop. It was some kind of an art merchant, perhaps, there were numerous paintings at his stall. But Malik wasn’t interested in that, no. He quickly spotted a case filled with rolled up papers, probably maps. It made Altaïr just a bit irritated, because of what happened in Florence when he tried to find a map. It wasn’t his fault, though, it’s not like Malik specified what to look for.

“Maffei is in the city, that’s for sure.” Ezio got back to him, and his eyes looked for Malik lazily. “They saw him enter two days ago, and since then, he’s been holed up somewhere.”

Altaïr wasn’t entirely sure why they were chasing this man. He was a Templar associate, and had a part in that conspiracy Ezio was talking about, but it wasn’t quite clear how he would have information they need. From what he could tell, the man fled Florence, and arrived here immediately, and if there was no other Templars in the city, there’s no way he could tell them about de Sablé. He was just fleeing to save his life, and while Templars generally were no cowards, this one certainly was.

“We should go after him, then.”

“That’s the plan.”

“He’s up on one of the towers.” Malik got back to them and said with a smirk. Altaïr stared at him in disbelief. “What? You can just ask regular people, Altaïr. They usually know what’s happening in their own city.”

Ezio smiled at the man, and strangely, it made Altaïr’s heart beat a bit too quickly.

“Good. We should just walk around in the city, then, checking the towers. I’m sure we will notice soldiers guarding him.”

And they did just that, for the next hour or so. San Gimignano wasn’t very large, but they had to make sure to check the many towers dotting the city. And then, just as the sun started to set, they found him. He was up on one of the larger ones near the main square, and Ezio cam up with a plan. He was going to climb the tower to question and kill him, but Altaïr and Malik must take down the archers on the other towers. Malik nodded, and then, they separated.

He would’ve preferred to be with Ezio when they question the man, but it was true that they had to kill the archers to protect him while he was climbing the tall tower. And Altaïr preferred to get this over with quickly, so they can focus on Robert. Who knows how much time it would take for them to individually climb the towers and kill the archers before they could focus on the main one. And their target would be alerted, surely.

The man had to die before sundown. And then, they could disappear into the night before anyone knew what happened.

And they did exactly that, he and Malik took out the archers posted on top of the smaller towers surrounding the tallest one, which Ezio climbed skilfully. He was up there for a few minutes, and then they saw him leap down and disappear. They quickly made their way to the meeting point, the side of the church in the main square, out of sight.

Malik got blood on his robes. Altaïr only had specks of it, he was always working clean. He quirked one of his eyebrows at the man, who just shrug and said that there was a complication. As he was eyeing him with questions in his mind – was it his blood? is he injured? he does look pale, are you alright Malik? _Malik?_ – Ezio got back to them.

“Let’s go.”

Altaïr wanted to protest at first, but Malik already followed the man. He went after them, and the assassin led them outside of the city, to a smaller house on the countryside. He noticed a few mercenaries already there, and Altaïr figured it was some kind of an accommodation Ezio or his family owned. They also had a doctor there.

They entered the small house, and Ezio immediately sat down on one of the chairs. He sighed and looked over to Malik and Altaïr. He also noticed the blood on Malik’s robes, and immediately asked if he was injured. Malik just motioned that he wasn’t, and left the room, probably to find a place where he could try and clean his clothing. It wasn’t easy to get blood out of their attire, but it was relatively fresh, so at least he could clean it with a bit more success. It won’t even look like blood, just some stain.

“Maffei has lost his mind. He couldn’t tell me anything useful, I’m sorry.”

Altaïr turned back to the man, who looked over to the fireplace.

“We still have another target. Do your men know anything about him?”

“We might have more than one target.” He replied as he started to take off his armour. “I found a note on him, which told me the location of the other conspirators.” He triggered his hidden blade and cleaned it with a rag he found in the room. “Baroncelli is somewhere in the city, but the note didn’t say where. I’ll tell the mercenaries to look out for him. But I know where the others are. Salviati has barricaded himself in his villa not far from here, and Stefano da Bagnone is in the monastery to the south. There’s another Pazzi, but I don’t know where he is.”

Altaïr stopped listening right after he said the name of the first conspirator. He didn’t care about Ezio’s revenge, or whatever it was. He wanted answers to the same questions, and so far, the man failed to deliver.

He probably noticed that Altaïr didn’t really care about what he has to say, because the chair squeaked, and he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

“Look, I know this is hard for you.” Altaïr immediately shook his hand off. “But I can only do so much.”

The Master Assassin knew that. He knew Ezio wasn’t responsible for any of this, but Altaïr couldn’t help feeling betrayed. He just wanted this to be over, and he hated how the days went by and they didn’t seem to move forward. At least today was more interesting than the others, and they got to kill a Templar. That was something, right? It didn’t feel like anything, though.

Eventually, Ezio got bored with him not saying anything, so he left him with a sigh and disappeared somewhere. Altaïr stayed there for a while at the window, looking out to watch the mercenaries pass by, drink and laugh. He never wished to be so careless as these men, they behaved like there was no tomorrow. What if someone attacked them tonight? They would be slain in minutes.

He heard some noise behind him, steps and then a door, and then – a pained gasp. He turned around just to see Malik clutching his left arm, his blood trickled all the way to his fingertips. Altaïr just stared at him in disbelief – he _was_ injured! Why did he lie to him? He had a long cut on his forearm, his other hand couldn’t quite cover it. He didn’t have any shirt on, but it wasn’t the right time to think about that.

He followed Malik outside to the healer they saw the way in. He desperately wanted to cover the man with something, it was cold outside. But they just walked to the stall, where the healer took one look at his injury and started working. He poured something over the wound, and then grabbed a needle and some kind of string. He started sewing the wound shut, and Altaïr had to look away.

Malik grabbed his arm. He squeezed it, and Altaïr heard him hiss, but the healer didn’t stop. Minutes of meticulous work later the healer bandaged it and let them go.

The other assassin didn’t say anything to their way back to the building, but Altaïr’s thoughts were all over the place. How did he got hurt? Who did this to him? He would find them and kill them for it. But then again, Malik probably did that already. Why didn’t he tell him?

“Out with it, Altaïr.”

Malik was sitting on a bed, now. Altaïr didn’t know when they entered the room, but it was dark, with only one candle on the windowsill. He noticed Malik’s bloody clothes draped over to the back of the chair, and his anger surfaced again.

“Who did this to you?”

He felt his eyes on him in the dark. The candle gently illuminated the left side of his face, and the white bandage mocked him. Long fingers were dark with partly dried blood. His eyes travelled up, to Malik’s chest and arms, his muscles still strained from his earlier exertion at the healer’s. A light layer of sweat on his neck, his goatee dark against his brown skin, light stubble on his jaw.

“Really, Altaïr.” He scoffed. “I got injuries that were worse than this from _you_.”

He felt ashamed. What was happening to him? Why was he so flustered around Malik all of a sudden?

Before he could leave to sulk somewhere, which would just make Malik more annoyed, he quickly stepped in front of the man and lightly touched his chin.

_What was he doing?_

And then, his lips were on his, Malik’s good hand grabbing the front of his robes – did he want to push him away or keep him there? Altaïr didn’t wait to find out but leaned in and pushed him back on the bed, kissing him deeply. His lips were hot against his, and he felt his beard on his skin. Malik felt amazing.

This was a mistake, but Altaïr wouldn’t let him go even if Templars stormed the place tonight.

*

He took the mercenaries to Salviati’s villa, captured the building and Ezio killed the man. With his last words, he revealed that the Templars will meet sometime soon, and that they suspected that Ezio will be there. That sounded like a trap. But he knew he had to go to there.

It was already dawn when he arrived at the monastery where his next target was hiding. A mercenary there told him that Bagnone was hiding as a monk. He also gave him a smoke bomb to use as a distraction, and he did just that. He spotted the man between some monks, and he stalked next to him. Stefano da Bagnone only heard the sound of his hidden blade triggering from his side. He looked over to Ezio with wide eyes before his vision became hazy.

As the guards appeared at the fleeing monks, he threw the smoke bomb at them and ran the opposite way. It worked well, he managed to get away quickly and mounted a horse to get back to the building where he left Malik and Altaïr. It was still early, he wasn’t sure if they were up or not, but Altaïr will be happy to hear the news. They had a lead. A Templar meeting a week from now.

Of course, it was alarming that the Templars knew he was coming for them. But they must know he was in the city, especially after killing Maffei, just as he knew they were here. They probably didn’t know about his companions, though. He might be able to surprise them at the ruins. He’ll have to talk to Malik about this, he seemed to be a good strategist.

Ezio wasn’t certain about the whole business with this Robert de Sablé, who might be here. What did it mean, to have a Templar Grandmaster here from the past? Did the Spaniard know? And if he did, are they on their way to Jerusalem now, maybe? He wasn’t sure what that would mean. But they’ll find out soon, with luck. What will happen if de Sablé gets back to his own time before Altaïr? Will he take the Piece of Eden from Solomon’s Temple? That would be catastrophic for sure. He could wipe out the assassins with that thing. Ezio didn’t know the extent of its power, but Mario once told him if it falls to the wrong hands, it can control masses.

The artefact was dangerous. They can’t let it fall to the Templars’ hands.

That was all he had to know, really.

Their accommodation was still quiet when he arrived there, the mercenaries are either out somewhere or still sleeping. He left his horse at the stables and went inside to get some breakfast. He wasn’t particularly hungry, but he needed all his strength today. He had to find Baroncelli in the city. One of his targets today said the Templars will meet in the shadows of a Roman God. Ezio could only think of one place – the roman ruins outside the city.

So, the Spaniard is coming here, to meet with Jacopo de’ Pazzi. He was the head of the conspiracy, after all, and surely, Rodrigo wants to punish him for failing.

That’s when they have to strike. If they can catch Rodrigo, if he can bring him to Mario… They’ll be able find out a lot of things. About the Pieces of Eden, about de Sablé. The prospect of that was promising.

As he finished eating, he decided to check on the other assassins. He hoped they’re still in their rooms, it would be harder to track them down if they’re not. Altaïr won’t be happy that the Templar meeting is a week away, a lot can happen in just seven days. But they had to attend, and in the meantime, Ezio was sure Lorenzo has some contracts for him to do in the city.

Altaïr’s room was empty. Ezio sighed, but he wasn’t surprised, really. He went to the other room next to it, where Malik slept. He knew from Kadar that the man didn’t usually sleep through a night but slept a few hours every once in a while. He might already be up. Ezio didn’t want to wake him if he’s not, though, so he slowly opened the door to a crack to look inside.

The morning sun was shining in, it illuminated the foot of the bed. But, to Ezio’s surprise, he was two pairs of bare feet.

Oh.

He really shouldn’t look. But he continued to do so anyway, and as his eyes travelled up, he saw Altaïr’s head peeking out from under the blanket, his short hair messy, eyes closed and his arm hanging off from the bed. The other figure was Malik.

Glaring at him.

Ezio quickly murmured a sorry and shut the door maybe a bit too vehemently. But before he could scamper away the door was opened again and suddenly his back was pushed to the wall with knife on his throat. It wasn’t Malik but Altaïr who attacked him so quickly, and he was painfully aware of their height difference, because the man looked extremely threatening now.

He kind of got used to it, having a knife at his throat because that was just how Altaïr behaved, but this was different. Now, he was afraid. Because the man looked like he would really cut his throat open for what he’s seen.

“ _Altaïr!_ ” Ezio was grateful for Malik to warn the man, but that only made him push the knife closer to his skin as he was further pressed into the wall.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t slit your throat right here.”

Ezio’s mind went blank.

“It would ruin my clothes?”

He heard Malik snort. Altaïr was not easily amused, though, but he relaxed just a tiny bit. Ezio noticed that his upper body was naked, he only wore his trousers. Malik was in the same state, his muscular figure leaning on the doorframe, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“Leave him alone, Altaïr.” The man finally said, and the assassin slowly removed his blade from Ezio’s throat. Altaïr stepped back to the opposite wall next to Malik and just glared at Ezio still. He looked outraged, but Malik just regarded him with curiosity.

“It’s fine. I don’t mind.” Ezio managed to say, and that must’ve been the good answer, because Altaïr glanced at Malik, who nodded ever so slightly. And Ezio didn’t mind, really. Sure, it was an odd thing to think about, but he knew it wasn’t his place to judge. He took a deep breath. “I killed two of them during the night. And I have a lead to the Spaniard.”

Malik raised an eyebrow, and Ezio told them the whole story. Altaïr sulked in the room while they were talking in the doorway. Ezio noticed that his arm was injured and bandaged, but he didn’t ask.

“So, we’re staying here for another week?”

“Yes. I’m sending Mario a message today. Is there anything you want to tell Kadar?”

“Stop drinking your uncle’s wine?”

Ezio had to chuckle. With Mario there, that wasn’t possible. The man loved to offer his handmade wine to every guest they had.

“We still have to find Baroncelli. He’s somewhere in the city, I already sent the mercenaries out to find him.” Malik nodded. They all went to prepare to go out, and not long after all three of them were on the streets of San Gimignano.

The city was more quiet today than the day before. It was probably because of Maffei’s death. Ezio fully expected the town criers to talk about _the assassin_ and their order and how they’re a curse descending on the land. His experience was that these people don’t really care about the truth, or about what the assassins were really doing – only that they killed someone in power. They didn’t care what the person in question did. The problem was that the Templars in the city would surely hear about what Ezio did from these people, and that made his work more difficult. But they always accepted money to shut up.

He paid off a person on their way into the city. Altaïr regarded him for a long second and told him that they never really cared about town criers, because they never talk about assassins. He could’ve just said that he was better at his job, it would mean the same. Maybe that was true, their methods were different for sure. Malik and Altaïr seemed to avoid being seen completely. Even back at Monteriggioni and on their way there, the three of them were invisible most of the time. Their training was completely different for sure, Mario’s technique wasn’t really based on being quick and effective in a fight, but on endurance and strength. Ezio didn’t doubt that they were capable of that too, but the fact that the town crier was only talking about one assassin said something.

They found a mercenary group while walking to the main square, and Ezio asked them if they heard something about Baroncelli. One of them said that they saw him in the city this morning, he was heading to the market with bodyguards.

Altaïr and Malik followed him without a word, and soon they reached the place the mercenary mentioned. As they neared the plaza, Ezio already heard people talking about a man who just talked to himself and circled the market without buying anything. Soon, they spotted Baroncelli with a handful of guards with him. Ezio glanced at Malik, who was watching their target intently, and his partner was looking around, sizing up their environment and where to strike.

Baroncelli was a coward. They shouldn’t just charge in there and kill everyone – it’s easy to slip away in the commotion, and they couldn’t let him escape. They climbed the building next to them to get a better view at the area.

“We could blend with the crowds.” Ezio said and looked over at Altaïr. The man observed their target’s route, and they did seem to walk in circles. The guards were following Baroncelli lazily, meanwhile the man was utterly paranoid, talking to himself about how Ezio is going to get him after Maffei.

“I can do it.” He said eventually, and finally looked at Ezio with determination in his eyes. Before Ezio could say anything, Altaïr made a leap of faith to the haystack below them. Ezio wanted to warn him that they can’t mess this up. If Baroncelli gets away and warns Rodrigo, he might not show up.

“Don’t worry about him.” Malik said and stepped closer to him. “He’s arrogant for sure, but at least he actually has skill too.”

Ezio didn’t doubt that. And in the next few minutes, Altaïr convinced him too. He darted from the haystack right after a patrol on the street turned his back to it and blended with a group of people next to the stairs leading to the market. Not even one person looked in his way while he was _dancing_ around the place, getting closer to the target. Then, when Baroncelli passed him while he was hiding in the crowd, his hand with the hidden blade darted to his neck.

Before Baroncelli could hit the ground, and before his guards could even notice it, Altaïr was gone. Even Ezio lost the man, up until a few moments later, he was climbing the roof to step next to him, cleaning him hidden blade with the red sash around his waist.

“It’s done.” He said with a smirk, which made Malik sigh and look away.

“Impressive.”

Suddenly, Altaïr grinned at him, clearly because Ezio’s amazement annoyed Malik. But then, they decided it was time to go, since the people started to notice what happened. Their group ran across the rooftops, to the city wall, and then disappeared.

*

The week passed quicker than Malik thought it would. They constantly monitored the roads leading into the city to make sure they don’t miss the Templar Grandmaster. And Ezio had a few assignments from someone in Florence which he completed on his own.

Malik recognized some of the mercenaries from the villa, who were there when he practiced with Mario. They greeted him with a shit eating grin whenever they saw him, and soon enough he ended up sparring with the mercenaries when he had some free time. Altaïr usually just sulked around him or decided to completely disappear for hours. He didn’t mind, though. They never really talked about that one night and the morning after, when Ezio managed to catch Altaïr in his bed. Ezio didn’t even seem to care – which was not really surprising, considering he was friends with Leonardo.

But still. Altaïr behaved like it was not a big deal, but to Malik, it was. Nothing really changed between them in principle, but somehow everything changed. He wasn’t even sure what _this_ was. Or if they should even talk about it. But it never happened again since then. And Malik couldn’t decide if this was good or not.

He stepped aside from the mercenary’s wide swings. It was one of those days when Ezio was in the city doing a contract, and Altaïr was who knows where. Malik was left alone at their accommodation, and some of the mercenaries invited him for a spar. He already bested two of them, and the third one was just waving his sword at him, not really using it properly even. The mercenary’s style was very similar to Mario’s, so Malik easily figured out how to best him.

The soldier’s legs were swept from under him and he was on the ground, with Malik’s sword at his neck. The man was groaning at his defeat, but Malik offered a hand to him with a grin. No other mercenary came forward to spar with him, so the assassin put his sword away. The sun was already starting to set, Ezio should be back soon. The Templar meeting was tonight, and all three of them will attend. They scouted the ruins the day before, and it wasn’t the best place for sneaking around. It was an antique theatre with a big opening in the middle, where they can’t hide themselves enough to hear everything.

It was only natural to think the Templars would meet there and not in the tunnels surrounding it. They would see the assassins immediately before they got close enough to even throw a knife. So, Malik was thinking about how they should approach this all day, and it seemed that the only case where they have the chance to get the Spaniard is if they hide and wait for an opportunity, preferably after the meeting was over. If Ezio didn’t show up as he expects him to do, he might let his guard down. And he knew Ezio would want to attempt and get him, maybe to interrogate, maybe to kill him for what he has done to his family. Malik would be happy with eavesdropping the meeting, and then make sense all of the information.

Malik didn’t trust the plan, though. But it was better than Ezio’s – he would just go in there and hope to come out unscathed. Altaïr liked that better, and Malik could only groan. The two of them thought that hiding and waiting was cowardice. He couldn’t convince them that it was not, it was only common sense when they didn’t know the extent of Rodrigo’s forces. He could bring dozens of armed soldiers with him and they might best them in a fight, but they won’t be able to focus on Rodrigo then, who could just escape.

No. They had to spy on the meeting, see if they talk about anything they could use first. And to size up the Grandmaster’s forces with him, and _then_ see if they can attack and capture him. Rodrigo’s stay will be brief, and he knew Ezio was in the city too. The odds of him coming alone were practically non-existent, no matter what Altaïr and Ezio hoped.

He saw Ezio’s form on a horse, getting closer to him. They would leave soon, then. There was no reason to think about their strategy anymore, it was Ezio’s call. Even if it was a bad one. He knew one thing for sure, and it was that he won’t die here. And he knew Altaïr was way too stubborn to just die. He had faith in their abilities. He didn’t have the same faith in Ezio, or that he knew his enemy.

Altaïr showed up almost at the same time while Ezio was getting off from his horse. The man left it at the stables and walked to Malik with a big smile on his face and long strides.

“Are you ready, my friend?” He asked eventually when he stepped in front of him, and Malik couldn’t help but groan at his jovial mood. Altaïr observed them from a distance with something ominous in his eyes, and Malik shot him a questioning look.

“Ready to get ourselves killed? Anytime.” Malik replied with sarcasm dripping from his voice. Ezio laughed at that, which made Malik even more outraged. He just wasn’t taking this seriously. It was a Templar Grandmaster they were talking about! Not some failed conspirator with a few idiots posing as guards.

“Where’s Altaïr?”

“Right behind you.”

The fact that Ezio didn’t notice the man just made Malik even more hopeless about this whole meeting. He knew Ezio was not totally incompetent, but he was way too cocky for his own good. Maybe not as self-assured as Altaïr, because he didn’t have the sense to superiority as Malik’s partner, but he sure thought he was practically invincible.

So, Malik wasn’t really happy with his companions. But they went to the ruins anyway.

When they got there it was already dark, and there was a guard at the entrance of the theatre. Ezio spotted a man walking to the guard, and he whispered to them that it was Jacopo de’ Pazzi. Head of the conspiracy, Malik thought. Rodrigo is going to kill him tonight, they all knew that. They followed the man, who disappeared at the entrance of the theatre with the guard. The tunnels that led to the seats of the theatre once were now dark and ruined, and the three assassins had to be very careful not to raise any alarms while they tried to get closer to the meeting.

They got a good view of Jacopo from the side on the theatre. They weren’t exactly hidden, Ezio still fully intended to just attack at the right time. He neared a man in dark robes, who had his hood up and was with at least ten armed guards.

“That’s Rodrigo.” Ezio whispered to them, and Altaïr narrowed his eyes. Malik knew that look.

Then, as they suspected, the Grandmaster suddenly had a knife in his hand and he stabbed the man in the stomach. They saw him speak to the dying conspirator, who looked up at him, eyes wide in surprise.

The man finally collapsed, the pool of blood under him growing. Rodrigo stepped away from his whimpering body. And then he looked straight at them.

“Ezio. I’d say it’s great to see you again, but that would be insulting to your abilities to hide.” Malik saw the man smirk. Well, they were discovered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to leave you with a cliffhanger, but I hope the events of the chapter make up for it! Thank you all for your continuous support, it means everything to me. If you have anything to say about the chapter or just want to tell that you liked/hated it, please do in the comments below, it's always a delight to hear from you!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for not updating sooner, I just had a lot of work and didn't have time to write at all. But here's a new a fresh chapter! Hopefully I can get back to my schedule and update more regularly from now on.

Kadar was starting to get bored at Monteriggioni. With Malik and Altaïr gone, he didn’t really have anyone to talk to. Leonardo and Claudia were working almost all day, and he was still lowkey afraid of Mario. He ended up staying with the mercenaries on the walls surrounding the villa, they guarded the town. There was nothing to guard it from, but it was better safe than sorry, as Mario said. And Kadar was rather bored up here that anywhere else, because at least this way he can be useful and repay Mario for letting him stay here.

The mercenaries were fun to be around anyway. They were a bit intimidating at first, everyone knew everyone and had inside jokes, knew how to talk with each other. But they quickly accepted Kadar, started to tease him for little things and asked him to spar with them all the time. Apparently, they did that because Malik somehow bested Mario the first time they sparred. The mercenaries wanted to know if Kadar can fight just as well as his brother.

He always refused. He wasn’t going to get his ass kicked by these men, who are fighting for longer than he was alive.

But they liked him anyway. And Kadar had a good time, even if being a guard was generally boring. He also got introduced to the girls at the brothel. In the evenings, he helped Leonardo and Claudia with smaller tasks too. The artist usually asked him to get the art supplies he requested from the art merchant – big canvases and paints mostly. He started a painting of Ezio’s mother, and Kadar could look at the man paint all day. He was very skilled, just as Altaïr was with the knife.

Mario got a message from Ezio not long after they left. They were going to stay in the countryside for a week, when they’ll spy on a Templar meeting. Kadar wasn’t sure how to feel about that – on one hand, he didn’t like to be left behind (but Malik always did that, didn’t he?), on the other, he knew the three assassins were way more competent than him. They will be fine.

He hasn’t really asked Claudia about that night, when they got drunk. He was fairly certain nothing happened, they just fell asleep, and the girl’s attitude towards him didn’t change. Kadar knew she was younger than him, by a few years at least, because Ezio was around his age. And he wasn’t about to abuse Mario’s and Ezio’s kindness by getting Claudia drunk and try to seduce her. Kadar was smarter than that. But Claudia was funny and witty, even though she could be cruel sometimes. Her snappy remarks were amusing though, and Kadar found himself spending his evenings with her.

They mainly talked about their pasts and their experiences. Kadar didn’t tell her the whole time travelling business of course – just told her about living in Masyaf, how their brotherhood worked, funny anecdotes from his missions. And he found out that Claudia was betrothed to a man who cheated on her, back in Florence. She also talked about her supposed friends with venom in her voice.

“They haven’t even visited me in two years!” She said to him one evening while they had dinner and continued to talk about how her social life died after they left the city.

“You want to go somewhere else?” Kadar asked with a surprised look. If he had something like Monteriggioni, he would never want to leave. Masyaf was similar, Kadar supposed, but this place was more like a home, not a fortress for trained killers.

“No, Kadar, I want to live my life as a bookkeeper.” She exclaimed, and Kadar chuckled. Claudia shot him an angry look. “I’d like to go to Rome. I’ve been there a few times when I was a little girl, and everything was so fancy, there were people everywhere.”

Kadar never had been to Rome. The biggest city he ever visited was probably Jerusalem, but he liked it for a different reason. It was a big city with lot of different residents, who came from all over the world. And Kadar was just one of them. Not Malik’s brother, not an assassin, just a simple man wandering the streets. The guards were a bit more cautious around him, but only because of his attire. When he was just walking around though, collecting information, he was just one of the many people.

That’s how he spent the last few days – being up on the walls, patrolling with the mercenaries a few times a day, looking out to the Tuscan landscape and talking with Claudia, occasionally Leonardo. It was a nice change of pace compared to the first few days of them being here. He kind of had a routine now.

The sun was setting, and he stood up to retire to his place. The mercenaries’ tower started to get loud with drunken laughter, and Kadar decided to sneak away before they invite him. He stayed out late today, Claudia and Leonardo probably retired already, so he went straight to the building he now didn’t share with his brother and Altaïr. It was quiet without them, without their constant bickering.

But he also liked being alone for once. Back in Masyaf and on his missions, he usually was never left alone, mainly because of Malik’s protectiveness. But he also just didn’t know what to do with all his free time.

*

They were back in Solomon’s Temple. He instantly recognized the caverns that led to the main chamber. Rocks were floating around him as he walked to the group ahead. He realized it was them. Altaïr, Malik and himself. Standing above a dead man. He felt the cold and damp air in his face, the same way he did when this scene happened.

Kadar knew he was dreaming again.

He watched as Malik scoffed and ran ahead, leaving Altaïr and Kadar behind. He remembered how fascinated he was with Altaïr at this moment, how he sneaked upon the worker there and killed him without a sound. Now, he was just wondering what Malik said. The man really didn’t have to die. Did he have family? Did he just work here, excavating the cavern because his children were starving? What was he like?

But those were questions he won’t have answers to. Eventually, Altaïr followed Malik without a second glance at Kadar’s double. Then, they were at the entrance to the chamber where the artefact was.

Kadar took a deep breath before following the group in there. Altaïr and Malik talked without voices, and Kadar could only watch their lips and hands moving, observing Malik’s irritated grimace and Altaïr’s determined face. He glanced down to the Templars, who were doing something at a table, probably preparing to get the artefact. Sunlight illuminated the Piece of Eden, but Kadar knew it was glowing from the inside too.

Then, Altaïr went for the ladder. Kadar watched as he descended to the lower level, and he turned to Malik, who was just watching the man with a murderous look, lips twitching. Then, he voicelessly told his double to stay there and went after the Master Assassin. Down there, Altaïr walked to the Templars to confront Robert de Sablé, his body was a predator animal’s, white robes flowing around him.

Kadar always admired his posture, how he could look intimidating all the time. From the corner of his eye he saw Malik following him on the ladder. Kadar wasn’t sure why Malik put up with Altaïr still, if he really hated him that much. They were a weird pair, way beyond his understanding.

He should go and get the artefact soon. In a few moments. He remembered touching it right when Altaïr attacked Robert.

But something was wrong.

As he glanced back to where Malik said to Kadar to stay behind, his double wasn’t there. He wasn’t anywhere, in fact.

This isn’t how it happened.

He quickly turned back to the scene below, and he saw Kadar going down the ladder after Malik, who was already behind Altaïr. The Master Assassin’s lips moved, and then he lunged forward to Robert, hidden blade sliding out of its sheath. The Frenchman caught his wrist, and Kadar’s eyes widened. He saw Malik reaching after Altaïr right at the last moment, but he missed him, and now Altaïr was at Robert’s mercy, in his hands, surrounded by the other Templars, and Malik just stared at the scene ahead of him, hands trembling.

Kadar reached the bottom of the ladder. Malik turned around to the sound of his brother, following him, even though he told him to stay back. Then, they all heard the wall below the artefact collapse, Altaïr stuck behind (or under?) it, debris was everywhere and for a second, dust filled the small chamber.

Then, chaos. Malik could barely parry the Templar’s attack who came out right from the cloud of dust. Kadar was beside his brother in an instant, and he saw Malik’s horrified eyes when he noticed that his brother was fighting next to him. He shouted something, but he couldn’t hear. He couldn’t hear anything.

And suddenly, he was not up there, looking at the fight escalating below, but down there, in Kadar’s body, in his _own_ body, fending off attacks left and right. His muscles hurt, he felt sweat running down on his back, and his hand that was holding his sword was slippery.

Maybe with blood.

He pulled out his weapon from a Templar’s chest and glanced at his brother who was fighting with a tall and muscular man. Kadar was not worried though. His brother can’t die. He’s too clever for that. And the next time he checked on him, he was winning. But Kadar had other things to worry about. Robert de Sablé himself charged at him, and Kadar could barely block his attack, the longsword whizzed at his ear as he deflected the man’s slash to the side. He had a shorter sword, which was easier to manoeuvre than a two-handed weapon, and he was already cutting in the man’s direction before he could lift the sword again.

But his thrust wasn’t strong enough. The end of his sword found armour and slid off it with a screech. Kadar let out a surprised yelp, realizing he left himself open. He stepped back as quickly as he could, knowing it was a risk because there were others behind him.

Suddenly, the voices came back to the dream world.

He heard swords clashing behind him, his brother’s grunts echoed, and Kadar shuddered. This was a dream. Was it, though? It had to be. But it suddenly felt so real. He felt drowsy, and his eyes started to close.

But then, he saw it. The Piece of Eden, the artefact was on the ground, and no one guarded it. It must’ve fell out of its case when the wall collapsed. Kadar immediately went for it, not caring about de Sablé or the other Templars.

He heard Malik yell, probably for him, probably trying to warn him about an attack. Somehow, Kadar knew he only had to touch the artefact, and then everything would be alright. He felt the ground slip under him, and he fell on his stomach, sword slipping from his grasp. He quickly turned around by rolling on his back, and then a Templar was immediately on him, kneeling on top of him. He didn’t have a weapon, weirdly enough.

Kadar quickly thrust his hidden blade into the man’s throat, before he could react.

Turning back to his goal, the ball, he crawled last next few meters. And then, when he was right there, his fingertips barely touching it, he saw someone step next to him. With a yell he grasped the ball, and then pain clouded his mind.

He screamed. His hand was on fire, agony exploded from his fingers. Everything went quiet around him, he only heard his own voice, shrieking into the dark and dust. What was happening to him? He couldn’t think, he completely forgot about the Templars being there, he forgot about Malik who was shouting his name.

The ball slipped from his fingers. He had to let it go, it was too much. His palm was still in pain, and he felt a faint ache in his arm. He rolled onto his back, panting, and he was fully aware of the figure above him. It was de Sablé. He was looking down at him, amusement in his eyes.

He was going to die, he realized.

It hit him oh so suddenly, he almost didn’t even flinch when the Templar lifted his sword. He heard Malik, screaming, his voice trembled. Kadar hated hearing his voice like that. His big brother was always so confident, always knew what to do, how to react. But no, there was nothing but desperation in his voice, and Kadar could tell he was close to crying out of frustration.

And then, the sword was coming towards his torso, way quicker than he anticipated, and then it breached his assassin robes, his skin, his muscle and organs, and he was gasping for air, his fingers went to grasp the sword – as if he could stop it from killing him. It was too late. And he was going to die.

The world went black around him.

He woke up covered in sweat, his fingers were grasping at his blanket which was around his ankles and waist, preventing him from any movement. He groaned, lifted his shaky, injured hand. He couldn’t extend his fingers properly.

It was all a dream. He was alive. No sword sticking out of him, he wasn’t bleeding, he was okay. The room was quiet, it was still dark outside. Kadar desperately wanted Malik to be with him now. He used to sneak into his brother’s bed when he had bad dreams, back in Masyaf, when they shared a room with the other boys.

It all seemed so real, though. He was wondering why his mind wanted him to show this. His head hurt as he tried to get out of bed. His hand was shaking.

His brother won’t come back for another few days. The Templar meeting was supposed to be tomorrow evening, and they probably won’t make it back until the afternoon, next day. If everything went right. He could only hope Malik is alright, even if Kadar wasn’t. But he knew Malik was okay, because he was on a mission, weirdly enough. He knew his brother well, he knew he wouldn’t let anything cloud his judgement, and Malik was a good assassin.

He was good. And Altaïr was even better. He didn’t know about Ezio, but the man seemed capable, and he knew the place. They are going to be alright, they had to be. Kadar ran a hand through his hair. It was just a dream.

The assassin grabbed his robes and weapons, and after dressing up, he left the building. It was dawn, but he knew one person who was up already. He headed to the villa.

Leonardo was in Claudia’s office, setting up his workplace. He glanced at Kadar, surprised when he entered the office. On one canvas, he had the portrait of Maria, which he started a few days ago and was still incomplete.

“Good morning, Kadar. You are early.”

The artist continued to check his art supplies – sharpened his chalk to a point, laid out some paper to the table, searched for his sketchbook. Kadar walked over to the miniature of the town, which he studied for a minute, just as he did for the past few days. He really liked it for some reason, everything seemed so trivial when he was looking at it from above. Imagined himself going into his tiny house with tiny furniture, pissing off tiny Malik with something, and tiny Altaïr scoffing in the corner of the room.

“I had a nightmare.” Leonardo looked up at him then, sympathy in his eyes.

“Want to talk about it?”

Kadar wasn’t sure. For some reason, the dream felt intimate, and the details were already hazy in his head. It wasn’t a normal dream. The feeling he got from it was similar to the one when he remembered how they got here for the first time.

Maybe it was special. Maybe it wasn’t just a dream. Kadar was unsure, and the implications scared him.

“I think I should be dead.”

Leonardo’s lips parted in surprise.

“You said you had a nightmare?” Why do you think…”

“I had a dream like this before. It’s different.” There were no voices, the dream-world was falling apart, and he felt like he was awake yet drowsy at the same time. As if his eyes wouldn’t want to stay open, but he was also extremely aware of everything around him. The artist nodded, and Kadar was surprised how easily he accepted what he was saying.

“What happened exactly in your dream?”

Kadar told Leonardo. Malik’s screaming was still ringing in his ear, and he hoped he will never have to hear him being so desperate and helpless. The man stared at him with a thoughtful look on his face, and Kadar already knew he was doubting him. But he was so sure his mind showed him something meaningful. Maybe this was just a lingering effect from touching a Piece of Eden? What was the point of it though?

“I think it might be an alternate timeline.” Leonardo proposed. “In one, you touched the artefact and it brought you here, in the other, you died because of it. Think of it as a road, which branches.”

This was all hypothetical, right? Leonardo wasn’t suggesting that there was another time where Kadar died? Malik would go mad. He might actually kill Altaïr. The Master Assassin provoked the whole thing, right? He remembered Malik arguing with him about how to approach the Templars. Yes, if Altaïr’s arrogance costed Malik his brother’s life, he would lose it.

“Why do you know anything about this?”

Leonardo smiled coyly.

“I had more than enough time to think.” He couldn’t read the man’s expression now. Leonardo got his sketchbook – it was the one he used when they were out in the garden – and opened it at the drawing Kadar made. “This is the Piece of Eden you saw, right? So far, from the previous timeline, which had Altaïr’s codex, we know that it can control people’s minds…”

“What is this codex, exactly?” Kadar interrupted, because no one really explained it to him. What was Altaïr doing with a codex?

“It’s a collection of notes from Mentor Altaïr.” Leonardo smirked, and Kadar couldn’t help but frown. Altaïr wasn’t the type of man who would write down anything. “He got the Piece of Eden at some point and studied it for years when he was Mentor to the Brotherhood. I can’t remember them, but Ezio can, you might want to ask him when they come back.”

Kadar nodded. So, in an _alternate timeline_ , Altaïr had the Piece of Eden and Kadar died while acquiring it?

“And what can it do? The Piece of Eden, I mean.”

“Well, as I said, it can control people. Enslave them. It also has great knowledge stored in them.” The man trailed off, examining Kadar’s drawing. “It tempts people with what they desire.”

“What?” He ended up asking after long seconds of silence, and Leonardo’s head snapped up from his sketchbook. With pure excitement on his face, he started to explain.

“What if you are here because it knew you would die? What if the alternate timeline you saw was how it meant to happen, but for some reason, the artefact brought you here instead?” He started to walk around, his arms flailing as he told Kadar his thinking. “Maybe, because it was hidden for so long, it had some energy, real power built up and your touch triggered it!”

“Okay…?” Kadar was barely following the artist’s thinking. But such things were impossible, surely?

“You desire to be at your brother’s side, correct? You want him to be alive and well.” Kadar nodded. Malik was his only remaining family, of course he wanted him to be alright. “I think, but this is purely speculation, the Piece of Eden granted you that. Maybe it didn’t want to, maybe it just meant to show you the possibility, to tempt you, but it brought you here instead.”

It did make sense, but how could a small ball of gold do that? But then again, how did it burn his palm? How did it glow from the inside? So, Kadar took a leap of faith and accepted everything Leonardo said, because it was the only theory that made some sense.

“Is this magic?” He asked with wide eyes, and Leonardo snorted.

“I believe it’s something far more advanced. But sure, you can call it magic, for it should not exist.”

*

Kadar was up on the walls yet again, nervously walked along it, circling the whole time for the third time now. Malik was late. It’s almost night-time, and they should’ve returned by now. The mercenaries shot him worried looks when he passed their tower once again, but he couldn’t care less about it. Where was his brother? They only had to spy on the meeting, that wasn’t hard! He trusted Malik and his judgement, but he wasn’t sure about Ezio. Or Altaïr.

He stopped above the main gate into the city. No one was on the roads. Nothing changed. The sun was setting, making the landscape orange. He looked down at the stables. The number of horses didn’t change. Nothing changed.

“Hey, kid.” There were steps behind him. It was one of the mercenaries who always asked Kadar to spar. He was even taller than Kadar, but he was more muscular, and had a big axe attached to his side. His hair was cut on the sides of his head and the rest was neatly braided, and he had a meticulously shaved face. Not all of the mercenaries looked as neat and put together as him, but he was also one of the captains, and said he had to look the part.

He nodded in his direction and continued to look at the road leading into the town.

“I asked the boys, and we wanted to tell you that if you want, I can go out and check the road with them. Master Ezio and your brother might’ve gotten into trouble on their way home.”

Kadar turned to him fully, surprised. The man – Bruno – smiled at him, and he noticed two other mercenaries waiting at the tower, looking at him expectantly.

“Let’s go.” Kadar announced and was already on his way to the haystack below the walls. The mercenaries looked down at him, but then quickly joined him the long way around. A few moments later they were on horses, riding out in the direction of Sam Gimignano. He knew that the city was relatively close, compared to Florence at least.

They were on the road for probably half an hour when they spotted them. They were on foot, with only one horse. Kadar immediately went ahead, and as he got closer, his heart skipped a beat. There was one person on the horse, and he was sure it was his brother. Is he injured? That’s why they were late? He had so many questions in his mind. Altaïr had the horse’s reins in his hand, leading the animal, while Ezio walked beside the horse, glancing up at Malik.

“Malik!” He couldn’t help it, he had to call out for him. His brother lifted his head, and Kadar sighed in relief. He wasn’t unconscious or dead, then. But there had to be a reason why he was the one on the horse, and Kadar knew it meant he was injured enough to not be able to walk. He reached the group, and somehow, he couldn’t look at Malik. He saw his left arm covered in blood from the corner of his eye though, as he looked down on Ezio. “What happened?”

The man looked ashamed, Kadar realized.

“There were too many Templars at the meeting point. We were discovered.” Malik scoffed at that, and Kadar felt relief. If he was in a state to dismiss Ezio, then he won’t die until they get back to Monteriggioni. He noticed a long cut on Ezio’s face, and he was limping just a bit. Altaïr seemed completely unscathed, and Kadar was sure that the few drops of blood that were on his clothes weren’t even his.

“Altaïr, get on the horse with Malik. Ezio can come with me, we’ll have to ride back to Monteriggioni.” Kadar stated, and no one complained. He wouldn’t hear it anyway. Bruno asked if they needed any help, but Kadar told him they have to ride back as quickly as they can. The mercenary nodded and after glancing in Malik’s way, he told him that he will ride back immediately to alert the doctor.

When he left, Ezio climbed on the horse behind him with a yelp, and Altaïr was already behind Malik, grabbing the reins and cradling his brother. Kadar saw that the two other mercenaries rode after their captain, leaving him alone with the assassins. They weren’t that far out anyway, and if Altaïr was alright, the two of them could protect Malik and Ezio, if anything happens.

Ezio led them back to the town, since Kadar couldn’t remember the way very well. He saw Leonardo at the gate, waiting for them with his arms crossed, and Mario was talking with Bruno next to the horses. Ezio talked to his uncle while he got off the horse and went immediately to Malik, who was helped down by Altaïr. His brother hissed in pain, and Altaïr murmured something, to which Malik replied with a murderous look.

He heard Ezio telling Leonardo to look at Malik’s arm first, and that he was fine for the moment. Kadar – and everyone, really saw that he was not entirely fine, but Leonardo went to Malik anyway. He carefully took off his bracer and rolled up his sleeve above his elbows. Kadar could barely see the deep cut on his arm from the amount of fresh and on some places, already dry blood. Malik told him that he injured his arm twice while they were gone, and that he already saw a doctor about it, but Leonardo told him to be quiet and ushered him inside the village, so he could see to the injury.

Kadar didn’t go after them. Instead, he turned to Altaïr, who was watching Malik leave before glancing to Kadar.

“What?” Altaïr asked, and Kadar almost punched him.

“How could you let this happen?” He demanded and ended up punching him on his shoulder. Altaïr didn’t even flinch, but Kadar noticed that the man didn’t stop him, even though he could. He was ashamed, the younger Al-Sayf realized. He didn’t even look at him.

“Malik wasn’t paying enough attention. It wasn’t my fault he got injured.”

Kadar couldn’t believe what he was saying. He didn’t blame Altaïr? No one said it was his fault? He was only curious – and angry – that Altaïr didn’t protect his brother when Kadar wasn’t there to do it himself.

“What happened to _do not compromise the Brotherhood_?” Kadar’s voice went high, and he glanced in Ezio’s direction too. He must know their tenets? He expected Altaïr to disregard them, but Ezio seemed to be very serious about the creed. He wasn’t interested in Altaïr’s excuses. As the man started talking again, he just interrupted him with a “You know what? I don’t even care. Fuck you, Altaïr.”

Kadar ran after his brother, then, leaving the two assassins alone with Mario and the mercenaries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, when Kadar swears, you know shit's about to go down I'm very sorry


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for being so slow with writing T-T I'm trying my best to make time for it. I'm not abandoning the story though, don't worry! Thank you all so much for the kudos and the comments - I love hearing from you!

He was in his room, sitting on the bed, cleaning his weapons. Altaïr was furious, mostly at Ezio. It was his job to know what they’re going against, he knew their enemy. And now Malik was injured because of him. Kadar was with his brother at Leonardo’s, who was looking at his arm. It was bad, based on how much blood he lost on their way home. They had to flee the ruins, there were too many Templar soldiers with the Grandmaster, who just watched them being butchered from afar.

Ezio managed to talk to the conspirator, who got stabbed in the stomach. Altaïr was protecting him while he did it, because the Italian just went ahead without telling them his plans, and Altaïr was there, fending off the attacks aimed at him. And he left Malik alone.

And then Malik crashed into him, clutching his arm with his sword hand, the weapon on the ground. His face was distorted with pain, and the Master Assassin was suddenly scared. He knew they won’t win this fight. And now his partner was leaning on him, unable to fight, blood trickling from between his fingers. So, he did what he had to. Punched Ezio on the shoulder as a warning and grabbed Malik cautiously to put the man behind him and told him to go.

Malik looked at him with surprise, although it was tainted with hurt. His dark eyes wide, mouth hanging open – and Altaïr thought that was the last time he’ll see the man. He would’ve been happy to die with that image. But then, Malik let go of his injured hand only to grab the dagger on his belt and plunged it into someone behind Altaïr.

He heard a scream, and looked over to see a soldier, his sword on the ground in front of Altaïr – he would’ve stabbed him for sure if Malik wasn’t there – with a dagger in his face.

It was odd. Now that he was back and in safety and Malik was in good hands, he questioned his common sense. He was ready to throw his life away for Malik. He was so ready to do that, and the feeling confused him. They didn’t talk with Ezio yet, what he found out, but the man went straight to Mario to talk with him, so it must be important. Altaïr had to know what he found out.

He put away his weapons that were now clean of blood. He left his dagger in the soldier’s eyes, so he decided to go to the blacksmith in the town to get a new one. He put his sword away and checked his hidden blade again if it was working properly. He had almost all of his throwing knives, he used two when the fighting began and never collected them. Maybe he could ask the blacksmith if they’re making them here. The ones from Masyaf were the best he could ever find, so he didn’t have high hopes.

Altaïr left the building and headed to the blacksmith. He could hear the shop immediately after he stepped out to the streets. It was on the main street, and people were staring at him as he walked to the blacksmith’s shop. He only nodded to the man and examined the weapons that were put out in the shop. Only a few minutes passed when he heard Ezio’s voice from the direction of the villa. The man was calling out for him, and Altaïr turned to him with a sour face. He really didn’t want to see the man right now.

But the Italian was adamant and stepped next to him after greeting the blacksmith by name. He said to him that he would pay for whatever Altaïr chose, but the Master Assassin was not impressed by that.

“Altaïr, we should talk.”

He looked at him in confusion. And a bit of fear, too. The first thought in his mind was that something happened to Malik, but Ezio would have a different attitude. The Italian’s expression was serious, and Altaïr decided to just nod and go after him. They went to the villa where Ezio came from, entered the building and turned to the office.

The room was not empty. Claudia was nowhere to be seen, but it was Mario who sat at the desk. The man had a grim expression on his face, and he stared right at Altaïr when they entered the office. It unnerved him for some reason. He noticed Kadar and Malik, both sitting next to Leonardo, who was painting something. Kadar looked at the artist with his mouth hanging open, he seemingly didn’t even notice that Ezio and Altaïr entered the room.

Malik looked terrible. His complexion was pale, and he still had a bit of dried blood on the side of his face. He was leaning on Kadar, and Altaïr was sure Leonardo probably told him to lie down but the man was stubborn and wanted to stay there until the meeting was over. Altaïr couldn’t help but smirk. He caught the man’s glare towards him.

“What is this?” He ended up asking Ezio after turning to the Italian.

“Malik was right. The Piece of Eden brought the Grandmaster of your time here.” Altaïr looked over at Mario immediately. He knew, then. Who they were, and where they came from. Ezio had to tell him, but the fact that he didn’t ask Altaïr made him furious. He didn’t trust Mario, and Ezio knew that, but he went ahead and told him anyway.

But they had to worry about an entirely new thing now. So, de Sablé was here, and the Templars found him.

“Jacopo de’ Pazzi revealed to me that there was a new man in their Order, who came from nowhere.” Ezio continued. “Apparently, he is close with Rodrigo, and the two became very secretive.”

“He wants the artefact.” Altaïr stated before anyone could speak. “He will go to Jerusalem. We have to follow him.”

Everyone looked at the Master Assassin, even Leonardo stopped painting. Malik could barely sit up straight.

“Jerusalem is a bit different than it was in your time, kid.” Mario declared then. “The Mamluks rule the area, they are on the brink of an open conflict with the Ottomans. And you would have to travel through Cyprus, which is still Templar territory.”

Altaïr decided to ignore how Mario addressed him.

“So, what. Are you suggesting that we do nothing?”

Oh, if looks could kill.

“No, of course not. I’m suggesting to think this through.”

“We don’t have time to think.”

“That’s how your friend there got injured, or so I’ve heard.”

He felt Ezio’s hand on his arm, holding him back. He didn’t realize he took a step in Mario’s direction.

“Cyprus is not our only option, uncle. We could travel on land, through Constantinople. Or go along the coast of Africa. There are still assassins left in the area…”

“No, that would take too much time.” Mario didn’t let Ezio finish. “We have to get to them before they leave the Peninsula. Then, the Templars have the advantage of travelling freely.”

“I only need my blade to get to them. One man is enough.” Altaïr stated, and he heard a weak laugh from his left. At first, he thought it was Ezio, but it came from Malik. He couldn’t believe this – Al Mualim would’ve already sent him out, he would not waste time like this. He knew his skills, he knew he could do it.

“You don’t even know the land, Altaïr.” Malik spoke sharply, with malice in his voice. “They have every advantage. They knew about us, too.”

Silence fell on the room. They all knew Malik was right, but Altaïr refused to leave it alone. He won’t sit here, waiting for Robert to get the artefact. No, he was an assassin. A great one, too. Malik was injured, but he could still go with Kadar and Ezio to stop the Templars from leaving Italy. His partner knew this.

“The artefact.” To Altaïr’s surprise it was Leonardo who spoke, while looking over at Kadar. “I have a theory.”

He then told them something about Kadar’s dream the other day, and how the artefact had power built up in it, and that’s how they got here. Altaïr didn’t understand much, but even he can admit that Leonardo was smarter than him. They all listened to the man’s explanation, which was concluded with the speculation that the artefact might won’t even take them back to their own time. Ezio then asked if the hundreds of years wasn’t enough for it to have power built up in it. But not even Leonardo could say that for sure.

Even if they can’t get back to their own time, the artefact was dangerous enough, and they can’t let it fall into Templar hands. He can worry about other things later.

*

He wake up groaning. His side was still bruised, and he had smaller cuts on his skin – not as bad as Malik’s injury though, so he didn’t pay too much attention to them before. After the meeting last night, he visited the doctor in the town to get some medicine and then just fell into his bed from exhaustion. But now, he felt every inch of his skin, he was on fire and in pain.

Ezio shrugged with a hiss and got out of bed. He still had his robes on, because he was too tired to get out of them. They landed on his floor soon enough as he stepped to the basin filled with – probably cold – water. It didn’t matter to him, he was used to it. He grabbed a towel and started to scrub his skin which was still dirty with dust and blood.

They had to make a move, soon. Ezio knew things weren’t looking good for them, but he wasn’t going to give up. Altaïr’s situation was concerning him too, and the whole Italian Brotherhood. Which is why he decided to tell Mario about the whole thing, he was the de facto leader after all. The presence of a past Grandmaster and the prospect of them recovering a Piece of Eden was not something he wanted to keep a secret from his uncle.

He wanted to go to Altaïr and Malik first thing in the morning. Ezio was curious if Malik had any idea, because Altaïr’s one man mission was not something they can afford to do. They failed once, in San Gimignano.

And he had to ask Mario about it too. Gather everything they knew about the Pieces of Eden. His uncle was probably the only person who knew anything about them, what they’re capable of and how many there are.

He left his room after grabbing a shirt and putting his hidden blade back on. He couldn’t bother to look impeccable as he usually did. He had stubble which was a few days old, he still had dirt and blood in his hair and eyebrows. Maybe he should have a proper bath.

But not before he spoke to Leonardo. He wanted to make sure he was okay and that he had everything he needed. The portrait of Ezio’s mother was fantastic already, even though it was still unfinished. He knew the man didn’t like to rush things when it came to creating. But even his half-done artworks looked amazing, certainly better than what Ezio could ever do.

The artist wasn’t in the office, which was unusual. It was where his workplace was set up with all his supplies. Claudia wasn’t here either, but Ezio suspected because she was still asleep. It early for her to start working, but not for Leonardo. Ezio decided to check the man’s room anyway. When he arrived there, he quietly opened the door, not wanting to disturb the man if he was still asleep. It was dark inside, he must’ve closed the blinds. Ezio kind of remembered where the bed was, luckily.

He walked in its direction, letting some light in from the door. The outlines of the furniture started to get visible, and Ezio could definitely see a figure in the bed. He stepped closer and realized the blanket was on the floor, with Leonardo shivering and shaking.

Should he wake him? He seemed to have a nightmare, judging by the trembling and whimpering. Leonardo was usually up at this time, surely, he wouldn’t mind? It was hard for Ezio to see him like this, the last time he looked this troubled was when that guard started to beat him up for not telling him anything about Ezio. But of course, that memory didn’t exist anymore for Leonardo.

But it did for him. He was so outraged that a mere guard dared to touch his friend. That he dared to kick him and punch him, cause him pain.

Ezio picked up the blanket and slowly covered the man’s slim body with it. He slowly touched his shoulder, hoping it would comfort him in his dream somehow. The fact that he had no place to even be in his bedroom filled Ezio with sadness. He desperately wanted Leonardo with his warm, kind expression to look at him like before, to be his friend and confidant. Well, he knew he could count on his loyalty, but it was so different.

As he took his hand away, Leonardo moved, one side to another, now facing Ezio – and the open door. He cracked his eyes at the light, and Ezio quickly stepped before his face, kneeling in front of the bed. The artist tried to focus his eyes on him, failing spectacularly, and just ended up burying his face into his pillow.

“I’m sorry for waking you up.” Ezio stuttered and stood up again with the intention of just walking away. Leonardo murmured something that resembled _it’s okay_ before he could, though, and then the artist sat up, rubbing his right shoulder. He looked over to Ezio with sleepy eyes, not quite grasping what was happening.

“Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no, no.” Ezio smiled and looked down at his boots. “I was just wondering if you are still asleep, because you are usually up by now.”

“I see.” He still looked confused, and the assassin was suddenly embarrassed. He shouldn’t be here. Leonardo wasn’t even dressed! He could see his bony, freckled shoulders in the faint light, and the blanket was barely covering the left side of his hip. “Well, I’m up now.”

“You are.”

Ezio’s mind went blank. Should he leave? Or tell him that it wasn’t his intention to wake him? That he had a bad dream? That the blanket was on the floor? But before he could say anything, Leonardo sighed and rubbed his shoulder again.

“I’ll be with you in a minute.”

“Oh, yes, okay, I’ll just… wait for you in the hall.” Ezio muttered, completely embarrassed, which was a rare occasion. But he exited the room and went to where he told Leonardo he would wait for him, and well, waited.

Leonardo was startled, that much was clear. He had a nightmare, so that wasn’t very surprising. But weirdly, Ezio thought, he seemed just as embarrassed as him. He looked over himself, suddenly being very self-aware. Was he not presentable in some way? He only had a loose shirt on and his tight pants he usually wore when he was out on a mission. Sure, his hair was unruly, and he still had dirt on his face, but it’s not anything his friend hasn’t seen before. No, it’s probably not him.

Well, he shouldn’t dwell on it. They have to focus, now.

A few minutes later, Leonardo appeared in the room. His blonde hair was in a very messy ponytail, and he had a simple shirt on and a deep red jacket over it. Ezio smiled at him, and the man managed a sleepy grimace.

They climbed the stairs to the art gallery, and Leonardo’s mood seemed to improve immediately. Ezio bought some new paintings while he was in San Gimignano and sent them here before they got back. Leonardo was clearly too busy to see them before. Ezio asked if he had everything here, and the artist nodded with a beaming smile.

“Where are the others?” Leonardo asked then, while looking at one of the new paintings with a hand on his chin, stroking his own beard. Ezio noticed that the man did this when he was deep in his thoughts.

“I don’t know.” He didn’t really care, either. “Actually, I wanted to ask your opinion.”

“On what?” The artist turned to him, arms crossed in front of his chest.

“What do you think our next step should be?”

He looked at him with wide eyes now, clearly surprised that Ezio was asking for his opinion.

“I’m not sure it’s my place to say.”

“Leo.” Ezio smiled fondly at the man. “You are the smartest person I know. I’m only asking for your input.”

The man was flustered now, he turned away from Ezio. The assassin couldn’t decide if it was because he complimented him, or because he wanted to know his thoughts. Or maybe the nickname? He called him like that before, didn’t he?

“As much as I would like to study the Piece of Eden, I don’t think you should get it.”

What? Ezio’s mouth fell open, his brows furrowed. What did he mean? Leonardo glanced back at him, and as he saw the disbelief on his face, his lips pulled into a smirk.

“I suppose I should elaborate. It’s not something meant for us, from what I can tell. No one knows how to even operate a machine like that, and I fear that it could drive men insane.” He trailed off, studying something outside through the window. “Just imagine it, although I know you probably can’t. It could show you things you can’t even dream of. It could show you the past, or the future. Things that don’t exist yet.”

“That’s exactly why we have to get it, so it can’t fall into Templar hands.”

Leonardo glanced at him with furrowed brows, as if Ezio said something stupid.

“I know it can be dangerous in the wrong hands. But how do you know you are the right person to wield it?”

“Altaïr did it once, in the lost past. I’m sure he can do it again.”

“I don’t think it was that easy for him. And don’t forget that he is not the same man.”

Maybe that’s true. But Altaïr was their best shot. And maybe Malik too, he had to touch it at some point, he was the Mentor’s right-hand man for decades.

“So, what? We should just let it fall to the hands of Rodrigo? Or this Frenchman?”

“No, I suppose that’s not the answer either.” Leonardo was getting more and more confusing. What was the answer then? But before Ezio could ask, he spoke again. “You can either let them get it and see what happens, although that’s very risky. Or you can send someone out to Jerusalem and let them obtain it for you. What you need is secrecy, if you choose the second path. You should stay here, let them think you don’t know what they are planning.”

“I don’t trust anyone with the Piece of Eden, Leo.” Ezio turned away from the painting they weren’t even looking at, facing the artist. The man did the same, looking out through the window one last time. When he turned his face to him, Ezio went silent for a second.

Leonardo’s face was illuminated by the morning light, caressing his left cheek, his blonde hair and his stubble. His bright eyes were focusing on him, his restless hands were toying with the hem of his shirt. Ezio was stunned by his friend’s beauty, which was a very odd thought. He didn’t usually find men beautiful, did he? He could tell if someone was handsome, sure, but to think of a man this way was strange indeed.

He quickly averted his gaze and tried to seem natural while doing so.

“I know you don’t. But you asked for my opinion.”

Ezio nodded. So, Leonardo didn’t want them to get their hands on the artefact. There was some truth in what he said, and he imagined the man guessed a lot about it by Kadar’s description. If anyone can make those types of guesses, it was him. Leonardo _was_ the smartest person he knew after all, just as he told him.

“I get it. Now, I think you might be hungry.” He turned back to the man and winked at him before he walked by him quickly with the intention to rouse Claudia and the rest of the villa.

*

Malik woke up with a strange pain in his arm. He didn’t feel it at first, and he had to raise it above his head to make sure it was still there. It was, of course. Why wouldn’t it be there? It didn’t exactly hurt to raise his arm, which was a good sign, he thought. But as he tried to sit up and let it support his weight, it was much worse.

Leonardo said the cut was deep, but if he is lucky it’ll heal within a few weeks. He sewed the skin together, made sure it was clean and bandaged it which he had to change every day. Malik hissed in pain as he unwrapped it. The skin was still swollen around the area, and while it was already numb when the artist treated him, it seemed a bit irritated now, although weirdly, it was more closed up than yesterday. It shouldn’t heal this quickly, he had plenty of injuries to know.

He wrapped it up again and refused to deal with it anymore. He got dressed, pulled his hood up and left his room. It was already late in the morning. He supposed he needed the sleep, so he decided he would not beat himself up over it. Anyone would want to sleep for a full night after dealing with Altaïr _and_ Ezio for more than a week. He was honestly surprised they made it without any fight.

Well, there was that one night, though. And the morning after. When Altaïr was ready to cut Ezio open for seeing them both in the same bed. That was interesting. He didn’t know Altaïr would be so protective of whatever they had, he kind of just assumed the man would be gone before the sun could even get up.

But he didn’t talk about it anymore. And Malik didn’t press him. He suspected the man would come to him if there was something he wanted to say, and while Malik started to get a bit annoyed at how he was avoiding him since they got back to Monteriggioni, he also knew that this was not an easy thing to talk about. Especially for Altaïr, who probably never even had an experience in this. Malik was not the most experienced person when it came to intimacy, but at least he had healthy relationships with other people. The Master Assassin can’t even say that about himself.

He’s probably confused, Malik realized. And scared, of his own feelings and desires.

It wasn’t his place to tell Altaïr how to feel, though. Malik realized he stopped before the man’s door, even though he knew he probably wasn’t in there so late in the morning. Kadar was probably still asleep, so he went for the kitchen to get some food.

Surprisingly, Kadar was already there. He didn’t saw Malik at first, but when he finally noticed his brother standing in the doorway, his eyes widened and then suddenly, his brother was hugging him.

“I thought you would never wake up!” Kadar practically shouted, although it was muffled by Malik’s robes. He was utterly confused.

“What are you talking about?” With his hands on his brother’s shoulder, he pushed him away. Kadar was crying, his eyes were red and tired. “You are ruining my attire.”

He was baffled for a minute and stopped sniffling, but then a weak laughter erupted from him.

“There’s the Malik we all know and love.” Another voice added, and he immediately knew it was Altaïr’s.

What was going on? He slept more than usual, sure. But he was fine. It’s not like he was dying from a cut on his arm.

“You slept for days, Malik!” Kadar cried. “Leonardo said your wound got infected.”

Infected? He slept for _days_? Malik was very confused. He felt fine. Sure, his head was a bit heavy from the unusual amount of sleep – well, sleeping through the whole night was unusual for him. And he was very hungry and thirsty, but that was normal.

“I was so worried.” Kadar exclaimed, still clutching at the front of his robes.

“How many days have passed, exactly?” He asked Altaïr while turning to the man. The expression on his face was something odd Malik have never seen before. Usually, he looked irritated, annoyed, always so harsh. He never smiles genuinely. But now, he almost seemed… relieved? A faint smile was visible on his scarred lips, just barely, and he looked straight into Malik’s eyes, which was also very odd. He usually avoided it.

“Four. After the meeting.” _Four days?_ “The healer said it’s a minor infection, but you had a fever and were delirious for a while.”

“Altaïr was there with you _all the time_.” Kadar remarked with a sly smile. Malik just stared at his brother and decided not to comment on the matter.

“Great. Any news on de Sablé?”

“Nothing yet.”

That was not good. Mario said he would monitor the movements of the Templars in the countryside. So, they haven’t moved yet. Malik was surprised Altaïr wasn’t out there, hunting. But then again, Kadar said he was here all the time, which was something Malik had to address later.

“I’m going to fetch Ezio, tell him you woke up.” His brother said and before Malik could move to escort him, Kadar already left. Oh, that little shit. The older Al-Sayf assumed that Kadar was more susceptive than he realized, and he probably figured out that something happened between Malik and Altaïr.

Malik groaned, and sat down at the table where Kadar was sitting and started picking grapes from the bowl in the middle of the table. He expected Altaïr to say something, but when he didn’t, Malik’s mood just got worse and worse.

Before he could get more irritated though, he felt an inquisitive hand in his hair from behind. He closed his eyes, and let Altaïr turn his head towards him, and then – warm lips touched his, he felt a tongue sweeping over his lower lip, and Altaïr shuddered. Malik could tell he was worried, even if the man himself would never admit it.

“Are you insane?” His own voice was hoarse, which he hasn’t noticed before.

“Maybe.”

They both knew it was risky – kissing in front of the window (even though it was not completely transparent) when Kadar could be back anytime with Ezio and possibly Leonardo. But Malik was actually glad that Altaïr finally did something, since that one night.

“Insufferable.”

“I won’t kiss you again, then.”

Malik quirked one of his eyebrows, and he felt a genuine smile creeping up on his lips. Altaïr pressed his lips on his again, and then with a huff of breath he moved away from him.

“Liar.”

He knew it was childish, teasing Altaïr by calling him names. But he was too tired for educated remarks now, which was worrying – considering he just slept through four days. Well, he probably didn’t sleep that much, he was just delirious. His memory failed him.

A few minutes later, in which Altaïr was watching him eating grapes, Kadar got back with Ezio behind him. Leonardo was behind them, and Malik caught a worrisome glance from him. He shot a friendly smile at him when he noticed that he was awake, though. Then, he noticed the grim expression on both Kadar and Ezio’s faces.

“What is it?” It was Altaïr who asked, just seconds before Malik could do the same. Ezio looked at the Master Assassin, and took a deep breath before he said what they were all suspecting.

“My uncle’s men spotted Rodrigo and de Sablé leaving San Gimignano.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Love it? Hate it? Please tell me in the comments below!


	12. Chapter 12

Weirdly enough, they were back in Florence. Altaïr didn’t think he would see the city again, since he thought they would head to Jerusalem as soon as possible. But a few things changed since then. Three days ago, Ezio informed them that the Templars left San Gimignano, and that Mario intercepted a message from which they knew they were heading to Florence.

Malik jolted awake in front of Altaïr just before they reached the city. Leonardo advised the man to share a horse with someone, just to be safe. Of course, everyone would’ve preferred if he stayed back, but Altaïr knew Malik won’t do that. Not when his brother was with them, with Ezio and Altaïr, who ended up causing his injury. No, Malik would never let Kadar go alone. Even if that meant he was risking his own health.

Of course, he told Kadar that Leonardo said it was okay. And Kadar believed him.

The artist specifically said that he shouldn’t go with them. Malik needed rest. Altaïr told him to stay back, just this once, which just made the man more irritated. They ended up agreeing on him coming with them, but he won’t fight, if it came to that. Altaïr wasn’t even sure Malik could fight, even if he wanted to. He was weak, and the Master Assassin felt the need to protect him.

They left their horses next to the gate, and immediately went to Leonardo’s workshop. The artist let them stay there while they are in the city. It was big enough, and the Templars wouldn’t suspect them hiding there. It was infinitely better than the Auditore villa, even though it wasn’t very defended.

It was getting late. It got colder during the day, and the sky was cloudy. They might get some rain. Altaïr wasn’t mad about it, it might help conceal them when they approach de Sablé. The plan was to kill him – or at least that was Altaïr’s goal. He didn’t care about the current Grandmaster. Ezio wanted to know what they were planning, first and foremost. He wasn’t about to murder the Grandmaster even if he had the opportunity. Which was crazy to Altaïr, but it wasn’t his concern.

His only concern was Robert. And he will put an end to this, and they will go back to their own time. Altaïr wanted to believe that all of this was simply to make things right, to get back because that was the natural order of things. But in reality, he felt very insecure in this place, and he just didn’t like the uncertainty. Back in Syria, he knew every road, every town and building. Here, he had to rely on others.

And he had to rely on others he didn’t trust to treat Malik. He knew Leonardo was more than capable, he learned to have respect for the man – but that didn’t mean he trusted him.

Ezio led them through the city, they mainly chose dark alleyway over the rooftops because of Malik’s arm. Kadar was always with him, which wasn’t a surprise. The surprise was that Malik accepted his help. Usually, since he was the older brother, he had to look after Kadar – or so Malik thought.

They arrived at the workshop. Ezio unlocked the door and all four of them went inside. Malik immediately sat down with a hiss, and Kadar was there in a second, asking what was wrong. Altaïr just watched them from a distance, and even he could tell that Malik was just tired from the riding.

“We should retire for today. I’m going out with Altaïr tomorrow to gather information.” Ezio stated and continued to set up their beds for the night. Altaïr couldn’t help but agree with the plan. They won’t go out tonight, and he knew that the Templars won’t move until tomorrow morning either. Assassins worked in the dark, but the Grandmaster wasn’t just a shady figure, head of an organization. He was also a priest from what Ezio told him. That meant he was a politician in Altaïr’s eyes. The priests here were vastly different than what they had in Syria.

So, it would be suspicious for him to move so secretly. He definitely wouldn’t leave in the middle of the night when people saw him enter the city earlier today. And Altaïr was sure de Sablé wouldn’t either, since he was in the same position as them – he probably didn’t know the place well.

Ezio told Malik to lay down on Leonardo’s bed on the gallery. The artist had a comfortable looking divan which was now occupied by Kadar. The boy was stretching his legs and took off his hood and weapons. Altaïr wasn’t tired yet, so he decided to follow Malik up to the gallery just to sit at the window. He was determined to just look at the street below them, to see if anyone shows up.

He barely noticed when Ezio blew out all the candles, when he and Kadar finally retired for the day. Several minutes passed in silence as he listened to the others’ breathing and watched the streets. Ezio quickly started to snore quietly, and he heard the younger Al-Sayf turning around a few times before hitting the Italian. The snoring stopped, but only for so long.

Altaïr scoffed.

“Oh, don’t be so bitter.” He heard Malik’s muffled voice from the bed. “It is annoying.”

“Only if you want to be annoyed about it.”

“I’m not sure you understand how this works.”

_Shut up_. Altaïr felt the need to go over and shut him up for good. With his own lips. And the thought just made him weak in the knees, even though he was already sitting. Especially since he heard on Malik’s voice that he was smiling. That meant he wasn’t in pain, and that was enough for Altaïr.

“You should sleep.”

“I’m also annoyed by you guarding the window.”

“I’m not guarding the window.” Altaïr hissed. “I’m making sure we are safe.”

Malik didn’t answer. Altaïr thought that was a win. But a few seconds later he heard the man’s steady breathing, and he realized he fell asleep in the middle of their conversation.

He sat there for a few hours, until he started to get tired too. The city was quiet, and he thought that if the Templars even saw them enter, they would’ve probably raided the workshop already. He needed to sleep too. Or at least that was his reasoning when he stood up from the chair next to the window, put down his weapons on it and pulled off his hood before stepping next to Malik’s bed. The man’s sleep patterns changed for the better since his injury. He was sleeping through the night most of the time now, but he remained a light sleeper.

Which is why he immediately stiffened when Altaïr joined him under the blanket. He would’ve been quicker with his dagger at Altaïr’s throat if he wasn’t injured. But he was a few seconds late, and Altaïr already grasped his wrist holding the blade.

His usually strict, deep brown eyes were wide with surprise and still a bit hazy from sleep. Altaïr just smirked and guided his hand down to the mattress, where he let go of the dagger and put it back under his pillow.

“You are slow.”

“ _You_ don’t let me sleep.”

And then he kissed Malik softly, dragged his fingertips along his stubbled jaw. He kissed back, just for a second before turning his head away.

“Stop.” Kadar was downstairs, Altaïr knew that. But he was asleep, just like Ezio, who knows about this already anyway. Altaïr couldn’t see why he can’t kiss Malik, but he pulled away anyway. He didn’t leave the bed though, which earned him a glare and intense staring while he got comfortable. But the “you can’t sleep here” didn’t come, Malik just groaned instead and turned away from him.

*

Ezio was the first to wake up, or so it seemed. Kadar was still asleep next to him, and he couldn’t see the gallery but there was no movement there either. He laid there for a while before sitting up, running his hand through his hair. It was still dark outside but judging by the noises the merchants were already setting up their stalls. It’s almost dawn, then. They had to leave through the window upstairs to remain unseen and to avoid implicating Leonardo.

He got up eventually, and despite knowing what was waiting for him upstairs, he went for the gallery. True enough, Malik and Altaïr were still in bed, still asleep. The latter wasn’t very discreet when he joined Malik in bed last night, although only Ezio heard. He wasn’t sure what was going on between the two of them – they apparently hated each other, but at the same time, they kind of had an affair. Which was fine, it wasn’t Ezio’s place to judge.

It wasn’t so clear what Kadar would think, though. So, he stepped next to Malik’s side of the bed and gently tapped the man on the shoulder. His eyes snapped open almost immediately, and his hand was under his pillow (probably looking for his dagger), but then he registered that it was just Ezio standing over him. He exhaled and turned to Altaïr, who was a surprisingly heavy sleeper, and stroked his arm. Ezio decided that it was way too intimate for him to watch, so he turned away from them and glanced outside.

“I’m going to wake Kadar up.” Malik said, voice hoarse from sleep. He walked past him, shrugging his robe on and tying his red sash around his waist. Ezio couldn’t help but stare at the man, at how he moved. It was one of the first things he noticed about the three assassins – they moved with such grace and elegance, Ezio was a brute next to them. They were slender and muscular, excellent at staying hidden.

When he turned back to Altaïr – who was now standing next to the bed, fully clothed and his weapons ready, as if he was never even in the bed, or asleep a few minutes ago – the man watched him relentlessly. It was quite uncomfortable for Ezio, but he figured that was nothing new with Altaïr. Who knows what’s going on in his head.

Ezio heard Kadar’s groan from downstairs. But before he could join the brothers, there was a hand on his arm, stopping him.

He turned to face Altaïr, who seemed very upset for some reason.

“Don’t touch him again.”

“What do you…”

“I saw how you looked at him.”

Ezio was confused. He wasn’t looking at him in any way. Admiration, yes, but nothing more. He wasn’t looking at _men_ that way.

“I think you misunderstood something.”

Altaïr gave him an “I’m always right” look and went downstairs to join the others. Well, today is going to be interesting, since he was supposed to go out with the man to gather information. Malik was going to stay here with Kadar because of his injury, and because four people would be way too much for a mission like this.

But he was not looking forward to it. Altaïr was very intimidating, even if he wasn’t pissed at you. Ezio got used to his sudden attacks and his dagger at his throat, but this was different. He wasn’t exactly sure what was going on with Altaïr and Malik, if they were a couple or not, but Altaïr was very protective of him for sure. He sounded jealous, even.

He joined the others downstairs, just caught Malik scoffing at Kadar for something. Probably because the younger brother was still laying down, refusing to let go of his blanket. Ezio couldn’t help but smile.

“Are we going or what?” Altaïr asked, irritated as ever. He had his arms crossed in front of his chest, waiting for him impatiently. Ezio nodded and turned to the brothers.

“Do you have everything you need here?” he asked from Malik, who looked back at him, his stare intense. He was intense all the time though, the only occasion when he saw him relaxed was when he was sleeping with Altaïr at his side. How the other assassin earned this, he didn’t know.

“Sure. We’re going to be fine, and if anything happens, I have my weapons.”

“And you have me.” Kadar added with a grin. “You know, a capable assassin, perfectly healthy and all that.”

Ezio smiled at his enthusiasm. He never really saw Kadar fight, but he was probably a good assassin, since he was trained at Masyaf with Altaïr and Malik.

“Let’s go, then.”

He left the workshop with Altaïr, through on of the windows looking at the garden. They were on the roof in seconds. Ezio told the man that they should head to the La Rosa Colta. They won’t find Rodrigo there, probably – he was smarter than that, to go to a brothel where the Madam was an assassin. Well, Paola’s identity wasn’t widely known, but The Spaniard might know of her past with the Auditore.

But he had an escort, he had men with needs, money for girls. Ezio knew all too well that they would seek out the only brothel in Florence. And that Paola would know about Templars in her brothel. If they are lucky, she will have information for them already.

Altaïr didn’t acknowledge it but followed him regardless. They ran through the city on the rooftops, knocked out a few archers when nearing the brothel. That was a good sign, Ezio thought. The fact that there were guards meant that someone important was in this part of the city. Maybe Rodrigo’s accommodation was around here somewhere? That was possible, but then again, he must know about Paola. He wouldn’t risk sleeping so close to an assassin.

Ezio was surprised that the other assassin followed his lead so easily. They landed on a dark alley next to the brothel’s back entrance. He went for the door, opened it slowly and let Altaïr go in first. The man hesitated, but went in, and Ezio quickly followed.

The interior was dim, full of reds and gold, the air heavy. The smell of sex. Altaïr wrinkled his nose, but Ezio could only smirk. He went ahead to search for Paola, but it was not necessary. The woman appeared behind them, causing Altaïr to tense and turn around with his dagger in hand.

“Ezio! It’s been too long.”

He smiled at the woman and went to hug her after motioning to Altaïr that it was alright.

“Paola!” Her slim body was warm next to his, her hands on his neck were gentle. She smelled good.

“Who is this?” She asked after a few moments, letting him go from her embrace.

“Oh, he’s Altaïr. A fellow assassin.”

“I don’t suppose you just found him on the streets.”

Paola was as smart as she was beautiful. And just as deadly, if she wanted to.

“Well, actually, that’s exactly how we met.” He couldn’t help but chuckle. Altaïr glanced at him before putting his dagger away, sensing that they were safe. He nodded ever so slightly. “But no, he’s from the Levantine branch. We met a few weeks ago, he has a target here.”

“A target? So far from your home?”

“He escaped once, I tracked him here.” Altaïr improvised, and it was not even far from the truth.

“I see.” She considered him for a moment, and then turned back to Ezio. “I assume you want to ask if I heard anything.”

“Exactly. If you have a task to do, we can take care of it in exchange, of course.” Ezio told her, but Paola just let out a quiet laugh.

“We are quite alright, Ezio. You know I will give you information, free of charge.”

She led them to a room behind the main stairs, her office. Ezio have never been here, but immediately noticed the hidden door – similar to what his father had in his own office.

“So, who’s the target?”

They told her about Robert de Sablé, but didn’t mention him being the Grandmaster, of course. Ezio also shared that Rodrigo was in the city, but Paola already knew about it. She asked about de Sablé, even though Altaïr refused to tell her much. They told her that he was a high ranking templar from Cyprus, and that seemed to be enough for her. Ezio could see her doubt, though. She sensed that it was not the whole story but decided not to push.

“I see.” Paola considered Altaïr for a swift second. “I’ve heard of Rodrigo’s arrival. My girls saw him arrive, at the southern gate.”

“Was Robert with him?” Ezio asked, since Altaïr decided to remain silent.

“He had an escort, but I don’t know their names.”

“He’s a bald, tall man. French. With an ugly cut across the right side of his face.” Altaïr said suddenly, with pure hatred in his voice.

“I’ll ask around today.” Paola promised, her words aimed at Altaïr. “They are staying near the Signoria. I’m not sure which building, only that one of my girls saw them at the square.”

“Thank you, Paola. We’ll go there, see what we can find.”

“Be careful. Rodrigo is not your target, Ezio, don’t forget that.”

He knew that. The last time he thought he could catch the man, Malik ended up injured and they all had to flee. Ezio knew it would be great to capture the Grandmaster, but he learned from his mistake. It was not his mission. This was for Altaïr, Malik and Kadar. They would deal with Rodrigo later.

Ezio nodded. They quickly left the brothel and headed to the very place his family was executed.

*

Kadar wanted to go back to sleep after Altaïr and Ezio left, but Malik didn’t let him. He felt extremely exposed like this. He wasn’t as weak as he was before they left Monteriggioni, although the travelling was not easy for him either. But he did feel better after he slept, and his injury was healing. Leonardo explicitly said to him to clean and change the bandages every day, so that’s what he was doing with his little brother on his side.

“I hope you slept well.” Kadar declared with a mischievous glance.

“Thank you for kicking Ezio. His snoring was way too loud.” It wasn’t that bad, really. But the comment made Kadar chuckle.

“I did what I had to do, for all our sakes.”

“You are a hero, Kadar.” His brother laughed, and Malik couldn’t help but smile. It was nice to see him happy. which reminded him of another night, when he was his old cheeky self… “What really happened when you got drunk with Ezio’s sister?”

Kadar looked at him with wide eyes. Malik haven’t had the time to ask, because they were riding to San Gimignano immediately after Altaïr woke him up. It slipped Malik’s mind after that, but now that they were alone, he thought he should ask.

„Come on, brother. I won’t be mad.”

“I don’t really know, Malik. I can’t remember how we ended up in her room.” His face was pink, and oh, how Malik enjoyed his squirming. Well, Mario’s wine was strong, even Malik got a bit light-headed that evening. “But I didn’t sleep in her bed!”

“Ever the gentleman.” He grinned, but in reality, he was proud of Kadar. It was good to know he had some sense of honour, even when drunk.

“She said nothing happened, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not worried. I know you.”

Kadar smiled weakly at him. They didn’t talk after that for a while, and Malik went ahead and had some breakfast. It was going to be a long, boring day, while Ezio and Altaïr was out there, gathering information. Malik wished they had something to do, but really, there was nothing. Just when he started to think of how it was a bad idea for him to come along, Kadar spoke again.

“What’s going on with you and Altaïr?”

Malik opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He realized he didn’t have an answer.

“I’m… not sure.”

His brother just nodded. Malik had nothing else to say. They haven’t exactly talked about this with the man himself. Kadar was looking at him still, probably trying to figure out his thoughts. Altaïr was puzzling and infuriating.

“That’s fine.” His brother said with a sad smile. “I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

“What’s this? My brother is being serious about something?” It was not like Kadar, to talk to him like this. And it was Malik’s job to worry, anyway. He wasn’t even questioning how Kadar knew something _was_ happening between them, Altaïr was not very subtle about it, even if Malik tried to be.

“Oh, don’t be like that. You know I can be serious.”

Malik let out a laugh at that.

The day was slow with nothing to do. Kadar was looking around in the workshop, admired the artworks Leonardo left there, but Malik just sat at the window upstairs, watching the rooftops. He was restless, he wanted to get out there and help. The would cover more ground. The waiting was maddening.

It was already afternoon when he saw movement on the rooftops and went to open one of the windows. As he looked back again, he noticed the whites of the robes, the red sashes and the glinting of metal. And then, behind Ezio and Altaïr, soldiers running after them.

Malik grabbed his dagger and shouted at Kadar. He was already outside and on the balcony railing when he saw one of the soldiers fall into the closed off garden, landing on his head. Ezio was already fighting with another one near the edge of the roof, and Malik was climbing up, until he arrived there, sinking his dagger in the back of the man and let him fall backwards, off the roof.

“What the hell happened?” He asked the Italian while bypassing an enemy attack and drawing his sword. He briefly looked over at Altaïr who was fighting with two guards at once, but he didn’t have time to think about that.

Malik’s arm was too weak to hold his sword, but he tried anyway. With a pained shout, he cut one of the men’s back, who fell forward and broke his nose when landing on his face. The rooftop was getting bloody, the tiles were slippery. He heard someone yell behind him, but when he turned around, the guard already had a throwing knife in his left eye. Malik turned to where it came from and was surprised – but not really – to see his brother looking outside of the window he was just standing a few seconds ago.

Kadar joined them, and they ended the fight quickly after that. Three of their attackers were dead, the others were unconscious or too injured to continue. Ezio said they should hide the latter group in the roof garden nearby and leave the workshop altogether. It was a good plan, even though Malik’s arm was way too tired to lift a body.

After they took care of that, they waited in the garden until the evening to move. Ezio explained to them what they did during the day – they went to a brothel to gather information, found out where the templars were staying and got caught when they were coming back to the workshop.

They didn’t see Robert or Rodrigo. That was not good news.

“I’m going to see Lorenzo. He should know everything that happens in his city, and I’m fairly certain Rodrigo would visit him.”

“Fairly certain?” Malik was not impressed. Ezio clearly didn’t have the experience with gathering information. Their methods were vastly different, and Malik really didn’t know what went wrong in the last few centuries.

Ezio looked at him, his constant good mood was nowhere to be seen. He seemed irritated, if anything. But Malik suspected his comment wasn’t the cause of that.

“Yes. If that’s a dead end, we’ll infiltrate their accommodation, kill de Sablé and see what we can find about the Piece of Eden.”

“But you don’t know if he’s there. Or that they would keep such information laying around.” It was entirely possible that the two Grandmasters were staying somewhere else. Malik considered the matter for a second. “We should focus on getting information about how long they are staying here, and where will they go. Rodrigo is a bishop, yes?”

“He’s the bishop of Valencia, currently.”

“Where is that?”

“Uh, Spain?” Malik never heard of that. Ezio must’ve sensed his confusion. “It’s all very recent, I don’t think it existed back then. You might know it as Hispania?”

It didn’t. Malik’s knowledge of the Christian lands was not very extensive, but he knew most of the countries where the crusaders came from. Hispania was the old name of the divided land on the other side of the Mediterranean. Malik knew there was a Muslim kingdom there among the Christian territories.

“So, is the whole peninsula Christian, then?” It was now Ezio’s place to look puzzled.

“Granada is still under Muslim rule, if that’s what you’re asking. That’s the southernmost part of the peninsula, I think. I’m not too up to date with everything that’s happening there, if I’m being honest.” He had to have some kind of education before, then. Well, it was something at least.

“Valencia seems like a reasonable place to go. How would they travel there? “

It was clear they won’t go to Jerusalem, now. They wouldn’t come to Florence if that was the plan, according to Mario.

“It’s possible they’re heading to Pisa. It’s the nearest port.” Ezio told him.

“This might be it, then.” Malik concluded. Altaïr was looking at them intently, but he never said a word. “I think we should find one of the men from their escort and question him.”

“Agreed.” Ezio nodded. “We should get going.”

Malik stood up along with Ezio. He wanted to go. He could be stealthy, at least.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plenty of stuff happening! Thank you so much for the kudos <3 You're the best! You can leave a comment if you liked it :3


	13. Chapter 13

They found the Templar’s accommodation later in the evening, when Ezio spotted a courtesan on the streets, walking towards the building in question. The woman was smiling at him, and Kadar was wondering how the Italian did it. He was always so charming somehow. The woman was not particularly beautiful in his eyes, but she also had a kind of attitude that made her very desirable. Which was the goal, Kadar guessed.

“Rodrigo is Lorenzo’s guest. He’s at the Medici Palace, but Giulia here said that he was the only one staying there.” Ezio smiled back at the woman, who stood not far from them. She knew she didn’t need to hear their conversation.

“We could infiltrate the building where she’s going.” His brother suggested, and Ezio nodded.

“That’s my plan. Robert de Sablé is likely there.”

Kadar felt Altaïr tense next to him. He hated the Templar’s guts. Robert wasn’t any assassin’s favourite, he was a Templar Grandmaster after all, but Altaïr was too eager to attack him back at Solomon’s Temple.

“Let’s go then.” The Master Assassin was restless. He went to the courtesan, who then led them to a narrow street, and after a few minutes of walking, an ordinary building. The only thing that wasn’t ordinary about it were the two guards at the entrance. The woman went ahead, and Ezio led them away from the soldier’s sight just to make sure they are not seen.

They circled the building in silence, looking for a way in. It was Kadar who found a back door, probably opening to a kitchen, judging by the furniture inside. He went back to Malik, who stayed in one place while the other were away, and Ezio and Altaïr joined in seconds.

It was decided that Malik would stay at the door, making sure their exit was covered. For once, Malik wasn’t complaining. He just touched Kadar’s shoulder lightly and told him to stay safe.

Once inside, Ezio took the lead. He was obviously more familiar with the layout, and Kadar soon realized that it was similar to the Auditore palace. They went for the bedrooms, where Ezio pointed at a piece of red cloth, peeking out under one of the doors. It must be the sign the courtesan left them. So, there was a Templar behind that door.

“Stay here, Kadar.” Altaïr whispered to him and turned to Ezio.

“What? No!” He wanted to go in! He was always left out on important missions – well, it was Malik who always kept him from real danger. Altaïr disregarded him, and they quickly slipped inside the room.

Well, it was not exactly safe out here either, Kadar thought. Anyone could walk by. He heard some shuffling from behind the door a few minutes later, and then a muffled shout. He was just about to walk in a few minutes of silence later when Ezio practically ran out of the room.

Kadar glanced inside behind the man’s back, but there was only Altaïr there, staring at his hidden blade which had dark red blood on it. When he spotted the younger Al-Sayf staring at him, he quickly exited the room too.

“Robert is on the top floor.” The man said not long after, while following the Italian to the stairs.

“Are you going to kill him?” Kadar asked. Altaïr stared thoughtfully at Ezio’s back, and Kadar thought he won’t even answer him.

“Yes.”

Malik should be there with him, Kadar thought. This man was their enemy, who threatened their brotherhood, a Templar. But no one ordered his death. Al Mualim just wanted them to get the artefact, not hunt down the Grandmaster of the Templar Order. But then again, Al Mualim was not here. No one was in charge. Well, maybe Mario, but he had nothing to do with Robert, he didn’t care if he lives or dies.

“Okay.”

The artefact was still their priority, both of them knew that. They would get information out of Robert before killing him. It would be too dangerous, letting him live, that much was clear. Especially after they interrogate him about the artefact. Still, Kadar wanted Malik to be there with them. He felt bad, to just leave his brother at the entrance when he knew Malik would probably want to be with him. He was always adamant on accompanying his little brother on missions, and they both felt safer that way. They were good together too, always knowing what the other was thinking.

Ezio stopped abruptly before a door on the top floor. The man stared at it for a few seconds before glancing to Altaïr and Kadar. They both nodded, not wanting to make a sound.

The door was opened without a creak, and all three of them slipped inside. Kadar was suddenly very aware of the uncertainty of their situation – the man Ezio and Altaïr questioned could have just lied. He could’ve just let them believe Robert was here, and they could be walking into a trap. They relied on one piece of information – which was something Al Mualim always advised against. Whenever he was out on a mission he always confirmed everything he heard from another source. That was their method, and it was a good one.

It was necessary, so their targets can’t surprise them.

He just had a bad feeling about all this. It was too easy. Maybe they just didn’t expect them here? But surely, they heard about the fight on the rooftops. It’s not like they were subtle, anyone from the streets could hear it and gossip. The Templars must know they’re in the city.

He reached for Altaïr. The Master Assassin stopped to turn back to him, and Kadar could instantly tell that he was suspicious too. He just nodded slightly, knowing what Kadar’s instinct told him. Ezio didn’t seem bothered though, he just crept into the room with his sword in hand.

It was too late to think about it. They just had to get in, kill Robert, search his belongings and go. It was easy. Assuming the man was asleep. But he didn’t have guards at his door. Or in the room. Everything was too quiet.

Ezio stopped in his tracks.

And then Kadar and Altaïr too.

He simply couldn’t move his legs anymore. And judging by their sudden stillness, the others were unable to move too. Suddenly, there was a blade at his back, and he saw men surround the others. Oh, they were fucked.

“It’s a bit late for a visit, boys.” He heard the familiar voice of Robert de Sablé, his voice thick. And then he noticed the man too, walking in front of the windows, something glowing in his hands. It was the artefact, Kadar just knew it even though he couldn’t quite see. The small ball was really glowing, and it spew very straight lines of light somehow. It illuminated the man’s ugly face from below.

Kadar knew it was the artefact’s power that held them still. Ezio looked very confused, and Altaïr could only concentrate on Robert. Kadar saw his eyes following him, like a predator, even in the darkness.

“I suppose you want to know how I got this. You are after it, to get back.” He stated, like he knew it for sure. And it wasn’t that hard to figure it out, of course. “It turns out, the Templars in this time already have one. The very same we lost in the Temple of Solomon.”

Kadar gasped. He couldn’t help it. But if Robert had the artefact all this time, why is he still here?

“You didn’t get back.” Altaïr declared, as if he knew what was on Kadar’s mind.

“And why would I? The Templar Order is greater than ever. The Holy Land is lost, but there’s potential here.” That did make sense. Kadar briefly wondered if Robert had family, or a lover even back in their time. If he didn’t want to get back, just for their sake. Kadar knew he would, he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Malik wondering. “And there are more artefacts to collect, of course. I have more resources here.”

“And you think The Spaniard would let you do that?” Kadar suddenly found his voice, not caring about the blade pressing into his back a bit harder. He felt Robert’s eyes on him, but he refused to feel uncomfortable. “You think he will tolerate another Grandmaster?”

Robert didn’t like that, apparently. Kadar felt invisible hands closing around his throat. He could barely hear the man say something about how he didn’t ask him. He was gasping for air now, and he could see the men behind his partner’s back glance at him, obviously not knowing what was happening.

“Leave him alone!” He heard Altaïr shout.

Things happened very quickly after that.

He was suddenly released and collapsed to the floor, but someone was already on him with a blade on his throat. But before one of their captors could kill him, he triggered his hidden blade, pointing to the left side of his attacker’s skull. The man went still above him, warm blood poured down from the wound, not helping Kadar’s attempt to breathe.

He heard fighting beside him, but before he could see what was happening, someone was already kneeling next to him, and Kadar almost cut him down.

“Are you okay?” The man asked, and he slowly realized it was his own brother.

“How…”

“We need to go. Can you stand?”

He nodded while trying to wipe his bloody face with little success. The fighting was over quickly, Ezio and Altaïr managed to kill their captors. Where was Robert? And the artefact? They were so close!

But he didn’t see anyone where Robert was standing just moments ago. But there was something on the ground that looked very much like a metal ball was illuminated by the moonlight.

Ezio and Altaïr looked at them, breathing heavy from the fighting. The latter cleaned his blade in the clothes of one of the men on the floor, and Ezio was just looking at the brothers, obviously worried.

“Don’t touch it!” Malik said right before Kadar opened his mouth. Altaïr glanced at them. He was already standing next to the artefact and was grasping for it. The Master Assassin regarded them for a second, and then took down his hood and got the Piece of Eden through it. Kadar was stunned. He barely ever saw Altaïr without the hood.

But it wasn’t the right time to stare at him. After they got the artefact, the four of them quickly exited the building and disappeared into the night.

*

Malik was annoyed. He was annoyed with himself and his stupid wound that just wouldn’t heal. He was annoyed with Altaïr, who was just sitting there by the fire, his whole head visible, and he was just gorgeous. Malik was also annoyed with his little brother, who still had dark bruises around his neck from an invisible force. And he was annoyed with Ezio too, but for no particular reason, and he certainly didn’t help his bad mood while he fumbled with building a fire.

No, the situation was quite irritating. Robert escaped. At least they had the artefact, but it was a small victory. He wanted the Templar’s head for hurting Kadar.

They were lucky. He was lucky. After the three assassins entered the building, he was left at the door. He knew four of them is way too much, and he was injured anyway, so he didn’t protest the plan. And it was so, so lucky he stayed there. Because two Templar guards decided to chat right at the window about how they got the assassins now and it’s only a matter of minutes and they’ll walk straight into their trap. Poor Alonso, though. The assassins killed him right after he fed them the information about Robert’s whereabouts.

Malik climbed the building with clenched teeth. It wasn’t hard to find the room where the others were held, the artefact was shining so bright he couldn’t miss it. He was listening for a few moments, but then he heard Altaïr’s cry and Malik knew he would only yell if Kadar was in danger. He didn’t care about Ezio, no. But he knew Malik would hate him if anything happened to Kadar. So naturally, he wanted to protect the younger Al-Sayf.

He leapt through the window, crashing into Robert, only wasting his time to trigger his hidden blade and get whatever he can. But he didn’t care about the Templar at all, he was running to get his brother, so he didn’t even check if Robert was dead or injured.

And Robert escaped.

Altaïr was furious on the way back to the brothel to talk with Ezio’s friend, Paola. And Malik couldn’t care less about him or his petty revenge. Ezio told the woman everything that went down while they were drinking some wine, and while Malik was inspecting Kadar’s throat. Altaïr was sulking as usual, he obviously didn’t like the fact that Ezio told Paola about the artefact.

But now they were on the road, going back to Monteriggioni. They decided in the brothel that it was best, to let Mario know what happened. And they could study the artefact in peace there, with Leonardo. Malik knew this wasn’t half as bad as it could be.

But then he would see the markings on Kadar’s throat again. He should have been there.

They left the city behind a few hours ago, and it was getting dark again. Ezio decided that they should take a break for the night, and if they ride hard enough tomorrow they can reach the villa before midnight.

Malik honestly couldn’t care less now. He just wanted this to be over with. He desperately wanted to get back to Masyaf, to his old life, and to his old self. As soon as they get back to Monteriggioni and know more about the artefact, they can discuss if it’s worth it to pursue Robert.

“You have cuts.”

Malik glanced up and saw Altaïr standing next to him, looking at his face. He indeed had a few small cuts from breaking the window and landing on glass, but he didn’t really concern himself with that.

“Go away.” Malik was simply not in the mood for Altaïr’s pestering. Kadar and Ezio were further away from them, his brother already half asleep on the ground. They probably didn’t hear what Malik and Altaïr were talking about – and that’s probably why the man approached him with a simple statement of the condition if his face. He would never admit that he worries about someone.

Altaïr was used to the rejection. And Malik was used to him not listening to him. The man sat down next to him with a damp piece of cloth in his hand and grabbed Malik’s face to turn it towards him.

“What part of go away is confusing to you?” He grumbled but let Altaïr clean his wounds anyway. He enjoyed his touch even though his foul mood was trying its hardest to push the man away. Fortunately, Altaïr could see right through it. Malik closed his eyes and let the man wash the blood off his face in silence.

When he was finished, Malik was already half asleep. The Master Assassin then started to take off his bracer on his injured hand, probably to check his wound. Malik didn’t understand why Altaïr wanted to take care of him so bad now, but it was a rare occasion, so he decided he would let him. He opened his eyes and was immediately greeted with Ezio’s stare. The Italian was looking at them intently while snacking by the fire. One look from Malik made him avert his gaze.

Altaïr grimaced when he found that the bandage on Malik’s arm was bloody. It wasn’t bad, but he probably tore the stitches while climbing. He put a new, clean cloth around his arm after shooting him a few disapproving looks. Malik only rolled his eyes.

“What? Next time I’ll leave you to die then.”

“We could’ve managed.”

“Before or after Kadar choke to death?”

Altaïr fell silent. Malik sighed deeply, as a way to apologize for snapping at him.

“Did you find out anything?”

He told him how Robert wanted to stay here. And something about other artefacts. Malik was curious how he was able to just hold the object in his hand. Last time it burned Kadar’s. It wasn’t looking good, then. Malik knew Ezio and Mario were aware of other Pieces of Eden, and now it was clear that the Templars were too. And Robert wanted them.

But at least they have the artefact. Malik was tempted to just leave Robert to Ezio and go home with Kadar and forget about all this. But he knew that wasn’t what their mission was. Well, the last mission they had was to retrieve the artefact, not to kill Robert. But Al Mualim was not here, and Malik was fairly certain he would want them to hunt down the man.

They had no new lead on where they were, though. Robert vanished, and they decided it was too dangerous to stay in Firenze with the artefact. They better go back to Monteriggioni where they could keep it safe and use Mario’s intel to track down the Templars.

Malik knew Altaïr wanted to stay and follow Robert. If Kadar wasn’t injured, maybe Malik would agree with him.

He was interested in Leonardo’s thoughts on the artefact, though. He was a very clever man, if anyone can figure out how to get the three of them home, it was the artist.

Altaïr was staring at him, he realized. He already finished bandaging his wound a few minutes ago, but he didn’t move away. His fingertips were touching Malik’s hand, and it was weirdly comforting. He could see that Altaïr was way more comfortable when showing any kind of emotion lately, and even though he wanted to think that he couldn’t care less, Malik cared. The man even ditched his hood, so they have something to carry the artefact in!

He was different. And Malik was conflicted about this new person. It was easy, when Altaïr was an asshole, when he only cared about himself. It was easy to hate him. But he didn’t want to hate him anymore. He glanced at the man who also seemed lost in his thoughts.

“Kadar knows.”

Altaïr only quirked one of his eyebrows, clearly not very invested in this. He was saying “So?” with his eyes, and Malik could only groan. He didn’t realize why this was a problem. Kadar was just one person, and he wouldn’t hurt Malik intentionally.

“If he noticed, others will too.”

“There’s nothing to notice.”

Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be. Malik was a bit taken aback by the comment, and from Altaïr’s sudden change of tone. Malik moved his hand away.

“What do you mean there’s nothing to notice?” He was so confused.

“It’s not bad.”

Altaïr was never good with words, but this only made Malik more furious. The man probably saw his frustration, because he just pulled his legs close to his chest and looked away. Ezio was already sleeping next to Kadar. It was all so quiet. It seemed like they were alone in the whole world, just the four of them, sitting by the fire.

The gentle light suited Altaïr, it softened his usually hard features. He was bothering his lip scar with his pinkie and refused to look back at him.

So, Malik decided he had enough for one day. He stood up and walked back to the fire where the other two were sleeping and laid down close to them. He felt the man’s eyes on him as he fell asleep, and it was strangely comforting.

*

He could spot the towers of Monteriggioni, finally. It was hell travelling with Malik and Altaïr during the day, and Kadar was unusually quiet. He could feel the tension between the two older assassins, and since Malik was riding next to his brother, Ezio got Altaïr. Who only shot him murderous looks from time to time.

It was already late, well past midnight. They decided against taking a break for the night, because it was dangerous enough to stop once on the road. Altaïr would’ve stayed up all night, guarding the artefact if Ezio didn’t tell him to sleep a few hours.

He couldn’t wait to get back to the villa. They were away only for a few days, most of it was travelling, but it felt like forever. Ezio was especially anxious about it, because they had a _real_ Piece of Eden with them. It was one thing to read about it and another to really _feel_ it, the power it radiated. He could easily imagine why people were drawn to it. It was almost like the object was whispering. About the great things he could achieve if only he gave in.

Altaïr was guarding it fiercely though. Not that Ezio wanted to get it for himself, he knew from Altaïr’s codex what happened to Al Mualim. what happened to Altaïr himself. He was so torn between wanting to learn from it and wanting to destroy it. Al Mualim wanted to use it. And it corrupted his mind.

What will Leonardo do with it? That was the other question in Ezio’s mind. His friend was so fascinated by the possibility, of what this device could do. Time travel was unheard of. It was not something any of them could even comprehend. Ezio still had no clue how it was possible, only that it can be done.

They left the horses at the stables and walked into the town. It was quiet, this late into the night. He could hear laughter, faintly from the direction of the brothel.

“Finally.”

It was Claudia, standing near the gate. Her hair was not in braids and she wore simple clothing, probably preparing to turn in for the day. Ezio was confused why it was her who greeted them – he would expect Mario, or even one of the mercenaries.

“Claudia.” He greeted his sister with a nod. “You’re not dressed properly.”

She was not amused.

“Well, that’s because I was about to go to sleep when Marco told me he spotted you on the road. I had to wait for you.”

She went on about how it was fine if Ezio wanted to stroll around half naked, but god forbid she doesn’t wear a hundred layers of clothing. And no one was here anyways. Ezio could only smirk, because she sounded just like Federico. They were both so, so careless and didn’t give a shit about other people’s opinions. But he could also sense that she was worried – the last time he got back to the villa was not his favourite night either.

He told the other assassins to go to sleep now, and they’ll talk more in the morning. Malik nodded, and they left him and Claudia alone. Altaïr kept the artefact, but Ezio was not worried about it. It was in safe hands. He knew from the codex that it won’t corrupt the man, he could resist its power better than most.

“Uncle already knows what happened. We got a message from Paola yesterday.”

Perfect. Then he knows they missed de Sablé. Ezio was not looking forward to talking with him in the morning.

“How’s mother?” He ended up asking, not really expecting anything. Claudia sighed.

“She’s fine. Leonardo kept her company most of the week you were away. She seems happier with him around.”

That was good to hear. Ezio suspected it was nice to have someone around who didn’t remind her of what happened in Florence. Someone, who wasn’t a family member. Ezio wondered briefly if Maria would heal better if she could travel away from Monteriggioni, away from places that held memories of their family.

They talked a bit about what happened the past week while they were away. Not much, according to Claudia, who was always bored here and didn’t really care. Ezio escorted her to her room, but before he could say goodbye, Claudia leaned on the doorframe, seemingly gathering the courage to say something. The way she avoided his gaze was a sign that it was not going to be good.

“I want to learn how to fight.” _Oh_. Ezio let out a surprised gasp. Claudia never interested in learning how to fight. She was just a little girl in his eyes, who was so miserable in Florence because her friends were mean to her. Who wanted to party, and dance, and buy pretty clothes and move to a big city. “I don’t want to be helpless if anything happens. I want to be able to fight back. I wish I could’ve, when those men came for father and…”

Ezio was heartbroken to see his sister like this. It was something she thought through, clearly, and it wasn’t an unreasonable request at all. She _needs_ to be able to fight back. He briefly wondered what would’ve happened if their parents didn’t keep their ancestry a secret, if they were taught how to fight from the beginning. If Federico, Petruccio and his father would still be here.

“I think we can arrange that.” Ezio smiled warmly at her, and embraced Claudia, who was quietly sobbing, face buried in his shirt. “We’ll talk with uncle tomorrow about it. I’m sure he’ll approve.”

She pulled away, this time with determination in her eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it! :3 I appreciate your kudos and comments, they really make me want to find the time to write. Next chapter is going to be a fun one!


	14. Chapter 14

Altaïr watched the artist examine the artefact all morning. Ezio came by their accommodation early, asked him to take the Piece of Eden to Leonardo’s workshop. He set his workshop up in the town while they were away, apparently, because he needed a place where he won’t be bothered and could work in peace. It was a good call, Altaïr didn’t want to bring the artefact to the villa anyway. The Auditore always had at least a dozen servants in the building, and he wasn’t comfortable with that. 

So, he went there, with the artefact in his hands. He found a piece of cloth in their place to bundle it up instead of his hood. Malik was already up when he left, just sitting next to his breakfast, not eating. Altaïr didn’t say anything, even though he wanted to. Nothing in particular, he just wanted to talk to him. Hear his voice. See that little, rare smirk. 

The workshop was similar to what he’d seen in Florence, only there weren’t as many things here. No drawings on the walls, few furniture, and it was only one room. No naked men either. Leonardo was wearing a loose shirt with tight pants, which was a strange combination and didn’t look particularly comfortable to Altaïr. But it didn’t matter what he was wearing. Ezio said he was going to join him later, he had something to do first, and Altaïr couldn’t wait, strangely. It was weird, being alone with the artist. He didn’t really know why, he just felt so out of place. 

“I suppose things went okay in Florence?” Leonardo asked right after he let Altaïr in and gestured him to sit down at the table where he already had a notebook open and some drawings. He didn’t answer, just went to sit down and unwrapped the artefact, putting it in the middle of the table. Leonardo’s eyes went wide, and he tossed the half-finished drawings away to stare at the object. 

“Ezio told me to come see you.” Altaïr said, then glanced at the artefact. 

“Well, he failed to tell me you are coming over.” His eyes were glued to the object. He sat down close to Altaïr, pulled his shirt over his hand and touched the artefact. It started to glow again, but nothing really happened. Leonardo started to roll it around, to examine the patterns. As if a cat was playing with something round, which was not a rare sight in Masyaf. 

Leonardo murmured something that was very similar to “amazing”, and he continued to quietly talk to himself and take notes for a while. Altaïr was getting bored quickly, and he just leaned back, crossed his hands in front of his chest and watched the artist until they heard Ezio knocking on the door. 

Altaïr wasn’t going for the door, and after a few seconds, Leonardo stood up with a grunt and let the other assassin in. 

“Ezio!” He heard a greeting, and saw the artist embracing the man briefly. Which left Ezio quite stunned and looked after Leonardo as he went back to the object. “This is fascinating! I already have a few observations if you’re interested…” 

They talked about how the glow seems to come from nowhere, or more like, it was coming from inside. But it wasn’t a candle, because it reacted to the touch. Which made Leonardo giggle with excitement. Ezio was looking down at the artist with a warm expression, on the brink of laughing. Leonardo asked them to tell everything they knew about it, and Ezio started to explain what it did to them when they confronted Robert.

“It was like an invisible force, keeping me from moving. And it was choking Kadar, somehow. I’m not sure.” 

Leonardo stared at him with worry in his eyes.

“Is he alright?” 

“He’s fine.” Altaïr answered. Leonardo was not convinced, but he turned back to Ezio with a thoughtful expression. 

“Well, we already know from Altaïr’s codex that it can control people.” 

“Yes, he said that it promises you anything you want, and only wants obedience. To what or who, I don’t know.” 

Codex? What codex? Altaïr sat up straight, staring at the two, who didn’t seem to notice his discomfort. He didn’t have a codex. What were they talking about? He vaguely remembered Ezio mentioning a codex when they first met, but it didn’t seem important. 

“What’s this codex?” He asked, finally, and the two men fell silent. Leonardo let out an  _ oh _ , and Ezio was outright panicked. 

“Well…” Ezio started, and then stopped. He took a big gulp of air. “It’s your writings, from the original timeline. I found the pages, and Leonardo deciphered them. They were mainly about the Apple of Eden, and the knowledge it gave you.” 

It was Altaïr’s place to look stunned now. That didn’t make sense. Original timeline? He heard some of Leonardo’s theories as to why they were here, but he didn’t really pay attention most of the time. Or more like, he didn’t understand half of it. He had the artefact? And he could examine it enough to get knowledge from it? But Al Mualim would never let him do that. 

Seeing his confusion, Leonardo smiled at him reassuringly.

“We talked about this already. That when you were transported here, you created another timeline. Ezio can remember the original, for some reason, in which you became Mentor and studied the artefact for decades.” 

Altaïr stood up. 

“You  _ never _ told me that.” Oh, he was getting angry. He didn’t like when his allies kept information – crucial information! – from him. “You told me Abbas became Mentor after Al Mualim.” 

“I told you! You were pretty worked up over it, you might not remember.” 

“Are you insulting me now, brat?” Altaïr spat, and Ezio immediately went quiet. Altaïr was not going to feel sorry for him though, because he was a brat, a  _ kid _ , nowhere near being a proper assassin. He had no business keeping information like this from him. “What do you know? Of my future?” 

He stepped closer to the Italian, practically pinning him to the edge of the table. Leonardo could only stare at them, and he looked like he would jump on Altaïr if he tried anything. Well. he couldn’t harm Altaïr, he wasn’t even a fighter. 

“You… became Mentor. The Apple corrupted Al Mualim, and I’m not sure how, but you took his place. You spent day and night with the artefact, studying it, learning from it.” Ezio didn’t even stutter, even though he knew it only takes Altaïr a flick of his wrist and his hidden blade would pierce his torso. 

“What did I learn?” 

“New techniques, weapons. Leonardo made most of them, before you ended up here.” 

Altaïr glanced at the artist, who was just staring at them, still cautious. After a few seconds, he decided to let the man go. And without a second thought, he left the workshop altogether, even leaving the artefact behind.

*

He was sitting in the grass behind the Auditore villa, picking grapes from a bowl next to him. It was a sunny day – finally, it was warmer. Kadar and Claudia were training in front of him, both of them started to sweat in this weather quite quickly. They chose the back of the villa to get away from the training ring Ezio and the mercenaries usually used. They didn’t need to see the young Auditore girl in tight clothes and messy hair, sweaty and tired. 

Malik, of course was not interested in that, but he was happy to help teach her. Kadar volunteered to train with Claudia, since Leonardo told Malik to rest his arm one more week. And Ezio wasn’t around as much. And, Malik thought, Kadar should have something useful to do too. 

They got back to Monteriggioni a few days ago, and Ezio came up to him the very next day to ask for his help with Claudia’s training. Malik didn’t know why she suddenly wanted to learn how to fight but told Ezio that it would be his pleasure. Which was actually somewhat true. He knew it was going to get boring very quickly if he can’t really use his hand for another week. 

So, he spent the mornings with Claudia and Kadar, behind the villa. His brother was practicing with her, first with wooden sticks, and Malik sometimes added to it or corrected Kadar. But generally, he spent the mornings there with his breakfast and some books he borrowed from Mario’s library. 

He never really saw Altaïr anymore. Malik remembered that the man went out the first morning when they got back, but after that he disappeared. He asked Ezio one time, if he knew anything about it, and the Italian could only say that he freaked out about the whole multiple timeline situation. Malik was utterly confused, he thought Altaïr knew what was happening. But the Master Assassin never approached him about it. In fact, he disappeared entirely, Malik only saw a glimpse of the white-red outfit in the evenings when he retired to his room. 

All things considered, it was inevitable. For one of them to really think about the absurdity of the situation. But then again, it was never that easy with Altaïr, and Malik suspected it was more than that. He wasn’t going to run after him though. 

He heard a clatter, and then his brother let out a surprised gasp. Claudia could make him drop the stick for the first time, and Malik couldn’t help but smile a little. She had a victorious, but also quite astonished expression, she probably didn’t expect it to work. Malik didn’t pay attention, so he wasn’t sure how she managed it, but considering his brother was training to be an assassin for years and she only picked up training a few days ago, it was really impressive. She had natural talent, much like his brother. But while Ezio was brash and focused on attacks, Claudia fought a lot smarter. 

“Nice!” Kadar said while picking up his weapon. Claudia grinned at him, and Malik felt a cheeky answer was coming. But Claudia stayed silent, and just watched Kadar get back into position with a smile. Small victories were important, Malik knew that all too well. When he was practicing with Kadar, his impatient, Altaïr-wannabe little brother, he learned that even if he was just pretending to lose, it made Kadar work even harder. 

“Good job.” Malik said, and stood up from his place on the grass. He immediately felt Kadar’s eyes on him. “I’m going to see Leonardo.” Malik said to him and turned around to leave the gardens. 

Monteriggioni was quiet today, not much happening in the city. The residents were used to the three strangers now, mainly because of the mercenaries, really. They welcomed them immediately, and since the mercenaries were already residents, the town was quick to accept them. Malik even knew some of the merchant’s names already, and most of the servants in the villa, too. 

It was peaceful, comfortable. Malik hasn’t felt anything like this before, not even in Masyaf, which was his actual home. It was different, with the assassins in the fortress, and then the people below them – farmers, merchants, family members. And most assassins thought they were really  _ below _ them, they didn’t serve a higher purpose. Malik didn’t have anyone in the town, no parents or other relatives, but he was always respectful to the people who lived there. Altaïr, not so much. 

But Monteriggioni was a real community, and the Auditores were a part of it. They knew everyone by name, Malik witnessed them walking around and greeting people, like they really knew who they were. And they probably did, too. There was a woman next to their accommodation, who recently gave birth, and Ezio always asked about the baby whenever he saw them outside. Then there was the doctor on the main street, whose brother moved to Bologna recently, and the man was worried about him. And the blacksmith, who injured his foot recently, and Ezio always checked on him when he could.

Al Mualim never did this. He merely  _ let _ the people stay there, offered protection if they supplied the fortress, and the merchants were also unofficial informants. He was never interested in the residents of the town, and never encouraged the assassins to make friends down there. And Malik never did. 

Leonardo’s workshop was quite hidden, it was the only vacant building in the town – and for good reason. It had only one room, without a kitchen or bedroom area, and while there was a small tub in it, it was clearly not suitable for properly living in it. It was perfect for a workshop though. Leonardo did spend days at a time there, but he had a room in the villa too if he wanted comfort. Which was not often, Malik found out. 

Especially since the Apple was in Monteriggioni. It was in the workshop, they decided it was dangerous to take it to the villa in case of a Templar attack. And Leonardo’s workshop was near the gate too, and had access up to the walls, so it had plenty of escape routes. Mario agreed, although reluctantly. He wasn’t present most of the time when Malik was in the workshop, but he knew Ezio wrote a report of the mission in Florence for him, and he updated him every evening about the progress they made with the artefact. 

Which was not much, really. Turns out, Ezio and Leonardo can touch the artefact just fine, but they couldn’t make it work like de Sablé could. But then again, Robert had more time with it, presumably. Altaïr disappeared, and he never really saw him in the workshop either. According to Ezio, the Master Assassin could make the Apple work in the other timeline, so it was very possible he could do it again. But the man disappeared, haven’t really interacted with anyone in the past few days. 

Malik should really find him. 

He left the workshop yesterday evening, after a long session of studying the artefact. They had wine, and exchanged theories, mostly, about why would anyone make something like this, and what the hell Those Who Came Before thought. He left around midnight, leaving Ezio and Leonardo there alone, and he was surprised to find them still there now.

Ezio was slumped over the table, his face was hidden in his crossed arms, and a soft blanket was all over his shoulders. Leonardo on the other hand was already up, he was sketching something in his notebook, in front of the window where he had proper light. 

“Morning.” The artist greeted Malik once he closed the door behind him. 

“I see you’re not a sound sleeper either.” It was relatively early still. Ezio usually slept through breakfast, if he had nothing important to do and no one to wake him up. Malik was not sure why Leonardo wouldn’t wake the assassin, but it was really not important. 

“How’s Claudia’s training coming along?” He asked in a hushed voice, careful not to wake Ezio while he stood up from the chair and walked to Malik with the notebook in his hands. 

“She’s getting better. Kadar is a good teacher.” Malik sat down next to Ezio. “I taught him, so it’s not very surprising.” He grinned at the artist, who laughed quietly. 

Ezio begin to move slightly to the noise, the blanket slipped from his right shoulder. Leonardo went to grab it and put it back, but before he could do it, Ezio’s head snapped up and he looked around in confusion. 

Malik got hold of the notebook and read the artist’s notes. He had a drawing of the Apple in it, and a flattened image of all the lines and circles that decorated the outside. Leonardo wondered if those do anything, or they’re just that – decorations. There were notes on the material – we are not sure – and on its weight – surprisingly heavy – and also a footnote on what happened to Kadar’s hand, and that Ezio and Leonardo was able to touch it. 

The apple itself was on a shelf for the night, but Leonardo already eyed it, and Malik knew he had some new theory to try, or a new thought he could test. It wasn’t good news that they didn’t know the extent of the Templar’s knowledge about the Apple. How much information did they manage to gather from it? And for how long did they have the artefact? 

“What time is it?” Ezio asked in a gruff voice, and Leonardo informed him that it’s just past 10 in the morning. Then the assassin looked over to Malik, who already knew what his next question was.

“She’s with Kadar, they’ve been training for an hour and a half.” 

He seemed to be satisfied with the answer. Ezio pulled the blanket from himself and gently folded it and put it on the makeshift bed Leonardo had at the other side of the room. 

“Malik, I’ll need your help today.” Leonardo said suddenly and went to get the Apple. Malik was still wary of it, he hasn’t forgot what happened to his brother’s palm when he touched it. He didn’t trust it, no matter how many times Leonardo tried to convince him that it’s an ingenious little thing. “I want to try if it reacts to your touch the same way as Kadar’s.”

He could only stare at the man, horrified.

“Absolutely not.”

His arm was already hurt, although it was healing nicely ever since they arrived back at Monteriggioni. He didn’t need another injury! 

“I’m pretty sure it won’t hurt you.”

“Pretty sure? You know that does not sound convincing at all.” 

Leonardo smiled at him warmly, while Malik just crossed his arms in front of his chest, to hide his hands. 

“My theory is that it just had pent up energy inside, and when Kadar touched it, it activated. Something. I’m not sure on the specifics, but I’m fairly certain that was why your brother got hurt.” Fairly certain didn’t sound better. “I might be wrong, but that would also tell us something – that it’s not in fact the repressed energy, but… well,  _ something else _ . Maybe it depends on the person, maybe it’s in your blood, or the intention.”

“Nothing’s happened to us.” Ezio interjected. Malik shot him a murderous look. 

“I’m not touching that thing.”

“Then let’s ask Kadar.” It was Ezio again, who stepped between Malik and Leonardo.

“No.” 

Silence fell on the three of them, but not for long. The door to the workshop opened, and to Malik’s surprise, it was Altaïr. His hood was covering most of his face, only his scarred lips could be seen. Malik could feel Ezio tense next to him. The assassin closed the door behind him, and slowly approached the three of them next to the table. 

“I’ll do it.” 

Perfect. He was listening to them talk. Malik wondered how many times he did this while none of them seemed to see him in the past few days. 

“I’d prefer Malik or Kadar, since they’re brothers and if there’s a link…” 

“I’m doing it.” Altaïr interrupted Leonardo, and the artist went quiet immediately. 

Malik stepped away, with his back to the wall, arms still crossed. The Master Assassin pulled his fingerless gloves off, and after shortly considering it, he went to take the Apple in his hands. Leonardo was watching intently. And as Altaïr’s fingers touched the metal, light flooded his vision and the whole room, and Malik was suddenly panicking.

_ No, this can’t happen again.  _

His brother will never know what happened.

His hands were searching for the wall behind him – it was still there, good – and he grounded his feet, as if that helped the last time. 

But then, the light turned out to be something else. As he regained his sight, he could kind of see Altaïr, Ezio and Leonardo in front of him, all of them seemed just as stunned as Malik. He desperately looked around, searching for something that ensured him they were still in the workshop. There was a table in front of Altaïr, that was certain. And light from windows illuminated them, one on his right and one behind him – that was also right. And soon, he could make out the bed with the blanket on it, and the canvases next to the wall, and Leonardo’s open notebook on one of the chairs, where he left it. 

They were still in Monteriggioni. 

But something was not right.

Altaïr had the Apple in his right hand, and it was glowing. And it looked like… yes, it was projecting something? A ball? Malik did not understand, and judging by the looks of the others, they didn’t either. Leonardo’s eyes were wide, and Malik noticed Ezio’s hand in front of the man’s torso, as if he would step in front of him in any minute in case of an attack. 

“Fascinating.” Leonardo muttered, and stepped closer, not caring about Ezio’s warning look. “This… yes, this looks like Europe.”

He pointed to a part of the glowing ball in the air, in front of Altaïr. Malik wished he could see the man’s face. 

“Europe? But that’s…” Ezio let his hand fall back to his side and stared at the projection in awe. 

_ Impossible.  _

*

He was staring at the ceiling, sleep eluded him completely tonight. The night was cold, but he was basically naked in his bed, save for the towel he still had around his hips after he had a long bath a few hours earlier. Ezio was not feeling the cold though. The only thing he felt was confusion. It didn’t make sense. None of it did, really. 

They concluded that the ball was the Earth. Malik seemed to agree with Leonardo on that part, he also recognized some areas. Altaïr seemed to be indifferent about the whole thing. He just held it in his hands, cradled it, almost, and looked up at the map. As if he never even heard what Malik and Leonardo was talking about. 

There were places marked on it. One right where Rome was, one that seemed to be in Greece, one was at the edge of the Iberian Peninsula, and basically all over Europe, and the world. They didn’t know what was marked, but it seemed like a good idea to try and find the closest – Rome. They could go there, anytime. And they probably should. Since they didn’t know if the Templars saw this or not, it was the safest to find out what’s there themselves. 

Ezio doubted they could even get in without the Apple, though. When he shared this with Leonardo, the man’s eyes lit up. Maybe it was they key to all these places, he said. And Ezio had to agree with him. There was a reason why the artefact showed this map to them, why Those Who Came Before stored this information inside. 

Wait. Robert de Sablé said something about other Pieces of Eden? 

Ezio sat up.

Does that mean… that the Templars already knew about the map? Maybe it showed where the other artefacts are? It’s likely that the Templars already knew there are other objects like the Apple, but before getting their hands on one, they couldn’t find them. They can be anywhere. But if they saw the map… 

They might be heading to Rome already. Or Portugal. Or Greece. Or even France, who knows. 

He got up from his bed and went for the ladder that lead to his room on top of the villa. Going down the stairs, he passed Claudia’s room, and went for Leonardo’s. He was not even thinking when he opened the door, the thought that Leonardo might be asleep already hasn’t even crossed his mind. 

“Ezio!” The assassin heard someone hiss his name, and spotted Leonardo immediately. In the middle of the room, in the bathtub. Naked. 

He was gorgeous, with his pink cheeks, soft blonde hair in a bun on top of his head, his pale, freckled skin glistening in the candlelight. He looked utterly dumbfounded. Ezio finally let out a gasp and turned away immediately, but he was also panicking about the situation. Did Leonardo notice he was staring at him? But that was a normal reaction, right? 

“I’m sorry.” Ezio felt his face go red, and he suddenly was aware that he only had a towel around his hips. He never got dressed. 

“Just… wait a minute.” He heard water splashing, and then Leonardo stepped out of the tub – wet feet on the floor – and then stepped to get a towel, probably. Ezio waited patiently until the man tapped his shoulder. 

As Ezio turned around, the artist smiled at him, although he seemed a little embarrassed. His cheeks were pink for an entirely other reason, it wasn’t the hot water. Ezio briefly thought about why the artist is having a bath so late, and who even boiled water for him. Leonardo had a blanket all over him instead of a towel, which engulfed him from shoulders to ankles. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to interrupt.” Ezio apologized again, but Leonardo just looked down and continued to smile. 

“It’s quite alright. What’s on your mind?”

What was on his mind? Why did he barge in in the first place? Oh, Templars. Right.

“I was just thinking… about the places marked on the map.” Leonardo arched an eyebrow and went to sit down on his bed and grabbed his notebook under the pillow. Ezio knew he kept it there, in the other timeline at least. The artist said it was because sometimes ideas came to him during the night and he needed something to write it down.

Leonardo had a drawing of the map in his notebook. Ezio sat down next to him, brought a candle with him so they can actually see the places marked by the Apple. 

“What if the other artefacts are at these places?” 

“I’ve thought of that. It’s possible, but we have no way of knowing, really.”

His scent was intoxicating. Ezio somehow stopped himself to just outright bury his head in the man’s hair. 

“What if we went to Rome? To see if there’s something there?”

Leonardo looked at him with a lazy smile and closed the notebook.

“There are a lot of ancient things in Rome. You’d have to be more specific if you want to find an artefact.” 

He was right. It would be impossible to find what they were looking for without a clue. And how do you even start looking once you’re there? Ezio couldn’t just ask around about artefacts that were made by beings before humanity. Especially in Rome, where the pope resided. They would burn him alive.

Ezio glanced at Leonardo, who was still staring at him, his fingers playing with the edge of the notebook. He was suddenly aware of his own clothing, namely the towel around his hips, which was quite revealing in this position. His left thigh was visible, and he had to fiddle with it a bit to make it tight again, so it wouldn’t fall off completely. And then, Leonardo’s fingers were on his, stopping Ezio from distracting himself with fixing the towel. 

“Listen, Ezio…” The artist started, and then sighed dramatically. But Ezio could tell he was serious, no matter how much the man wanted to seem cheerful. “The last few days, spending time with you and trying to solve this mystery... It’s been delightful and exciting.”

Where was he going with this? Ezio couldn’t help but look at the man confused. 

“But I see how you look at me, I see that nostalgia in your eyes. And I know it’s been hard for you to pretend that everything is alright…”

“Leo. It’s alright. This-” He gestured vaguely, trying to imply that he meant the whole situation, with their three guests and everything.”-isn’t your fault.”

“But that doesn’t make your feelings any less…” 

“I do miss you as a friend. I know this is awkward between us, in my mind there’s so much history but you - you don’t know any of it.” Ezio turned away, but wrapped his other hand around Leonardo’s. “It is hard for me. But it is my problem to deal with, and I don’t want you to worry about it.”

“Well, I worry about  _ you _ , Ezio.” The artist’s other hand that wasn’t enveloped by Ezio’s own, touched his chin and slowly turned his head back. 

“You don’t have to…”

“But I do.” The playfulness was all gone from his face. His eyes were only half open, as if he was going to fall asleep any second. But then Ezio realized the man was only looking down at his lips. “While you were gone, I found myself thinking about you, if you’re alright, if you’re coming back injured or…” He let out a trembling sigh and buried his hands in the blanket. 

Leonardo cared for him. Ezio felt butterflies in his stomach, and he thought he would pass out any minute now. He had to get out of here. He needed fresh air, he needed…

Soft lips were on his own, and he felt Leonardo’s scent. Fingertips touched his torso, just resting there, and then they started to move up to the side of his neck, and then his face, and then - his head turned towards Leonardo fully, the lips against his own seemed to devour him. His heart seemed to skip a beat as he leaned in and kissed back, gently biting the artist’s lower lip. Ezio felt the other’s smile as he buried his hands in Leo’s hair.

The kiss seemed to last for hours, in Ezio’s mind. He gently shoved the artist back on the bed, his back was hitting the pillows, and Ezio crawled between the man’s legs, still kissing him. He wanted to stay there forever, in that moment. One of Leonardo’s hands were on the back of his head, keeping him close, and the other wandered on his back. 

And as Ezio started to ground his hips down, it hit him. What was he doing? And why did it feel so good, hearing Leonardo moan into his mouth?  _ And what the hell was he doing? _ That’s when he resurfaced from their kiss, and was greeted with the artist’s bright blue eyes now darkened by lust, staring at him, dazed and confused. 

“I…” Ezio started, but then stopped. And opened his mouth again, to say something,  _ anything _ , but he couldn’t. This was wrong. Wasn’t it? It should feel wrong. Leonardo was his friend! “I’m sorry. I need to go.”

And the next few minutes were a blur, Ezio couldn’t even remember how he got back to his room. But he was completely out of breath by the time he fell into his bed, and his hands were shaking, heart beating rapidly in his chest. 

He didn’t. He didn’t just kissed his best friend. No. 

But Leonardo was so alluring, the way the candlelight played on his skin, how he looked at him - how he looked at him! And how soft his hands were! Ezio buried his face in the pillow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Ezioleo is finally happening! I couldn't wait to write this part. Thank you so much for the nice comments, and thank you for reading!


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